


Better than Love

by KTBass



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-23 10:31:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 29,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/925311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KTBass/pseuds/KTBass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Rose Weasley wants is to do something that matters, even if no one ever knows - even if no one can know. But how can she keep a secret from her two best friends, and how can she leave behind the one thing she never realized she needed most?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Rose Weasley watched Platform 9 and 3/4 as long as she could, waving frantically at her mum, dad, and Hugo. Albus Potter, too, waved, not quite managing to hide a sniffle as the train pulled out of sight of the station. Already James had gone off to find his friends, and Rose and Al had a compartment to themselves. The solitude suited Rose just fine. She loved her family - you couldn’t _not_ love the Weasleys as far as she was concerned - but sometimes she wished she didn’t have _quite_ so many cousins. The fact that Al tended to be quieter and more thoughtful meant that they tended to spend much of their time together and, too often, as little as possible with their cousins.

Al silently handed her a chocolate frog just as the compartment door slid open and the blond boy from the platform - a Malfoy? - appeared. He stared silently at them. Al raised an eyebrow at Rose who shrugged her shoulders.

“Everywhere else full?” Al asked the boy.

“Yes.” His answer was clipped and cold, his gray eyes darting back and forth between them.

“You can sit with us if you’d like,” Al said, waving to the empty seats.

Still he hesitated, and Rose, frowning, asked “Is it because I’m a Weasley?”

The boy looked taken aback. “No. It’s because I’m a Malfoy.”

“Well, I’m a Potter and I’m pretty sure we’re allowed to sit with whomever we want.”

“You really want me to sit with you?”

“I don’t know,” Al said with an exaggerated sigh and an exasperated look at Rose. “I’m starting to think you might be a bit thick.”

“My name’s Scorpius,” the boy said, stepping into the compartment and sliding the door closed.

“I’m Rose, and that’s Al.”

“I know who you are,” Scorpius said with a little roll of his eyes.

“Chocolate frog,” asked Al, holding one out.

Scorpius reached for it, unwrapped it, and had the frog halfway to his mouth before he stopped. “This isn’t…it’s not…”

“Poisoned?” Rose asked, trying not to giggle at the look of deep suspicion with which Scorpius was regarding the candy.

“I’ve been to your Uncle’s joke shop. Am I going to burst into a canary if I eat this? Will I croak the rest of the day?” Scorpius stared at the frog, now struggling in his grip, as though it might hex him at any moment.

“It’s just a chocolate frog, mate,” Al said, grinning.

Scorpius’s cheeks colored, and he took a tentative bite. Rose watched his fingers tap anxiously on his knees, saw the stiffness of his posture and the way he kept himself angled toward the compartment door, as though he might have to make a run for it.

“What’s your Quidditch team?” Rose asked, hoping to settle his nerves.

“Falmouth Falcons,” Scorpius said immediately, and Rose saw his shoulders just barely relax.

“I take it all back,” Al said. “You can’t sit with us. The _Falcons_?”

“I suppose you’re a Harpies fan?” Scorpius asked dryly. “Since your mum played for them.”

Rose laughed. “Al’s a Puddlemere fan. Aunt Ginny is so ashamed of him.”

“Least I’m not a Cannons supporter,” Al shot back.

“You can’t possibly mean the _Chudley_ Cannons?” Scorpius asked, aghast.

“They’re my dad’s team!” she exclaimed loyally, sticking out her tongue.

“Do you play?” Al asked.

“Yes,” Scorpius said. “I’m guessing you do, too?”

Rose burst into laughter. “Al loves to _watch_ Quiditch.”

“Real nice, Rose,” her cousin scowled. “You can’t play either!”

“We’re not the best fliers, though I at least can stay _on_ a broom,” Rose admitted, still laughing at the memory of the last time Al had tumbled from the sky. “Our fathers still aren’t over it.”

“My brother James is going to be a chaser for Gryffindor this year. My little sister, Lily, is the one with the real talent, though.”

“And my brother Hugo’s a fair flier. I just got my mum’s incompatibility with broomsticks.”

“Least you know what the Wronski Feint is,” Al said, and Rose beamed at him.

“I’ve always played keeper,” Scorpius said.

There was a long pause as Al dug in his bag for more chocolate frogs and Rose stared at Scorpius. He still looked so scared, even more scared than she felt, and she wondered what it must be like to have everyone know your last name out of fear rather than love.

“My dad said that your family wouldn’t like me,” Scorpius said suddenly, staring at his hands.

“ _My_ dad told me that it doesn’t matter what someone’s born, but what they grow to be.” The matter-of-fact tone of Al’s voice reminded her of her Uncle’s. “It’s not your fault you’re a Malfoy,”

“And it’s not our fault we’re Weasleys,” Rose said.

“Oi. Potter, here,” Al objected indignantly.

“You’re half Weasley,” Rose argued. “The _point_ is that it’s all rather silly, in the end. What difference does it matter what your last name is or what house you’re in?”

Al snorted. “Of _course_ it matters what house you’re in. What if it was _Slytherin_. No offense.”

“I’m not going to be in Slytherin,” Scorpius said, sounding completely unconcerned.

“Well, it wouldn’t matter to me if you were,” Rose said hotly.

“That’s what my dad said,” Al sighed. “What a load of rubbish.”

“Ravenclaw wouldn’t be so bad,” Scorpius said carefully.

“No,” Al agreed. “And anyway, my dad says that the sorting hat takes our choice into account.”

Rose secretly found that knowledge comforting because she’d rather be a Hufflepuff than a Ravenclaw. Logically, she knew that it didn’t matter what house she was in, that her parents loved her no matter what. She also knew that Ravenclaws did more than study - Victoire was a seeker _and_ a prefect after all - but deep down, Rose wanted to be more than her mother’s brain. She wanted to be brave like her both of her parents and selfless like her Uncle Harry and funny like her Aunt Ginny. She wanted to be a Gryffindor more than anything in the whole world.

Several long moments passed in silence before Al finally spoke again. “What’s it like?” he asked, his gaze fixed on Scorpius. “Being a Malfoy?

“What’s it like being a Potter,” Scorpius asked with a long suffering sigh. “Think of that and then imagine the exact opposite.”

“But your father’s done so much since the war,” Rose said tentatively. She knew her parents did not care for Scorpius’s father, but she also knew that there was a certain grudging respect that they had felt for Draco Malfoy, the work he’d done, and the causes he’d supported since the war. She’d once heard her mum claim he was trying to buy his way into everyone’s good graces, but even her dad had pointed out that no matter the motive, the Malfoy money was finally doing some no-strings-attached good.

Scorpius sat quietly for a long time, before finally catching Rose’s eye. “Why are you being so nice to me,” he asked quietly. “I know what my dad did to your mum.”

Rose frowned. “What’d he do to her?”

“Loads,” Scorpius sighed again, turning his attention to the blurred green of the countryside.

It took a while to coax Scorpius back into conversation, and, when Rose finally succeeded, the rest of the trip to Hogwarts passed quietly, all three of them ignoring their earlier conversation. Al read his potions text while Scorpius and Rose played a seriously competitive game of exploding snap. At one point, James stuck his head in and jerked back when he saw Scorpius. At Rose and Al’s pointed looks he’d gone on without saying anything. Scorpius pretended not to notice, but Rose saw him relax just a little bit more after James left without making a comment.

When they were nearing the castle and pulling on their robes, Rose finally spoke up again. “I hope we’re all sorted together.”

Scorpius’s eyes flashed to hers. “You mean the Weasleys?” he asked.

“Albus Severus _Potter_ ,” Al muttered mutinously.

“No, I mean the three of us,” she said.

“You’ve just met me,” Scorpius pointed out.

“We’re excellent judges of character,” Al said. “Why d’you think we were avoiding my brother?”

“And even if we’re not in the same house,” Rose said, ignoring the pair of them, “You have to come to visit Hagrid with us for tea next week.”

“Just don’t eat his rock cakes,” Al said, digging for his hat.

Scorpius didn’t say anything, just followed them out of the compartment and down to the boats. Hagrid called out to she and Al, and Rose couldn’t help but notice the strange look he gave Scorpius. Scorpius, too, had noticed, so she took hold of his arm. “Come along, then,” she commanded, pulling him into a boat. “We’ll all ride together.”

“She gets bossy when she’s nervous,” Al said, and a corner of Scorpius’s mouth pulled up into a reluctant, crooked smile.

They sat huddled together for the ride up to the castle, Rose and Al sandwiching Scorpius in. She waved to Parminder Thomas and Martin Shacklebolt, who were speaking animatedly to a dark haired girl Rose had never seen before. Al pulled a face at Katie Finnegan, who’d put ink in his tea the last time their parents had been to visit Katie’s parents, Seamus and Lavendar. Scorpius kept his eyes on his hands, and Rose was glad when she saw the looks some of their soon-to-be classmates were giving him.

“Breathe,” she whispered to him, squeezing his arm.

“Told you,” Al said. “Bossy.”

When they finally arrived at the castle, Rose felt herself tearing up. She’d waited her whole life for this moment - to arrive and be sorted and roam the grounds with Al. She could barely believe it was all real. Scorpius, too, stood staring in awe at Hogwarts, and Al had to drag them both inside. They huddled together as they were led into the Great Hall and with every name that was called, she found herself feeling more and more nervous. Finally, Headmistress Sinistra called out, “Malfoy, Scorpius.”

At once there was a rush of whispers through the hall and Scorpius, head bowed, headed for the hat. Rose reached out and grabbed Al’s hand. Al squeezed back hard. “Not Slytherin,” he begged. “Please not Slytherin.”

Rose found herself wishing hard for Scorpius to be sorted into Gryffindor. It seemed as unlikely as Al being put into Slytherin - he didn’t have an ambitious bone in his body - but still she hoped. The hat sat on Scorpius’s head longer than it had for anyone else, and when it finally yelled, “Gryffindor,” Rose’s gasp of relief seemed to be the only sound in the hushed hall. She tried to catch Scorpius’s eye, but he sat himself at the very farthest edge of the table and stared without expression at the gold plate in front of him.

When it was Al’s turn, he trotted up to the hat and had barely managed to get it over his wild mass of dark hair when it sorted him into his parents’ house. With a grin he walked across the hall, ignoring his brother and sitting down next to Scorpius. She saw them, heads bent together, and, for the first time that day, Scorpius smiled. A real smile that wasn’t nervous or apprehensive or shy.

Because she was a Weasley - and the only one in her year - Rose’s name came last. As she approached the hat, Al gave her a thumbs up and Scorpius grinned at her. She sat on the stool, and when the hat hit her head it almost groaned.

“ _Another_ Weasley? Gryffindor tower will run out of space. But you have your mother’s mind, and a thirst for knowledge. Ravenclaw would suit you quite well. And you have ambitions, quite big ones I see, and a thirst to prove yourself. Slytherin could take you far.”

“Gryffindor. It has to be Gryffindor,” she begged.

“I don’t know,” said the hat, unsure. “Ravenclaw would - ”

“He needs me,” Rose said. “Gryffindor.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” the hat seemed to sigh, and it sent her to Al and Scorpius’s side.


	2. Chapter 2

Rose Weasley sat with a warm mug of tea in her hands and stared across the snowy Hogwarts grounds, safely hidden in the tiny room in the East tower it had taken her seven years to find. It was just a window and a bench and the cupboard she’d conjured so she’d have a place to keep a quill and set her tea, but she found herself curling up in the tiny space more often the last month. Her N.E.W.Ts were only months away, and she still had no idea what she was going to do when she finally had to leave Hogwarts. After her career counseling in fifth year and her O.W.L. results, she’d had offers - loads of offers - for everything from internships to positions to magical fellowships to cosmetic endorsement deals (Scorpius and Al had teased her so mercilessly about the letters that she started burning them without opening them). She’d been contacted by seemingly every magical employer in the country, and some that weren’t.

All Rose did anymore was worry. She ran through options available to her. She catalogued her possibilities and the little cupboard was crammed full of crumpled lists of pros and cons. Adding to her burden was the simple and obvious fact that every one of her cousins was doing exactly what they’d always dreamed of. James had been named reserve chaser for the Wimbourne Wasps (only after unsuccessfully petitioning to be the first ever male member of the Holyhead Harpies). Dominique was off in America with the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Victoire was in her healer apprenticeship. Molly was in South America breaking curses for Gringotts. Even Albus had his whole future mapped out; if he didn’t shut up about his potions fellowship soon she was going to scream. Rose sometimes wished she didn’t have quite so many cousins. Even now that they’d all graduated, she felt their presence in the castle. And her parents. And her aunts and uncles and grandparents. Being a Weasley was hard work, even for someone who worked as hard as Rose.

All she knew was that she wanted to make a difference. She didn’t need to go in the history books like her parents, but she needed to do something that mattered. More than that, she needed to do something that mattered to her - that challenged her. So far, the only thing that had met any of those requirements also meant maybe losing everything that mattered to her. The letter she’d received that morning - the third of its kind - barely poked out of her bag. She’d already read it so many times she’d memorized it.

“Cheer up, Rose” she sighed to herself, waving her wand to clean and store her teacup.

“Talking to yourself?”

Rose’s head snapped up. Scorpius stood, leaning against the doorway, eyebrows raised and arms crossed. Her eyes narrowed at him.

“How did you find me?”

“Rose, you’ve been coming here for months. Did you think I wouldn’t notice you were disappearing? Did you think I wouldn’t try to find where to?”

“Does Al know?”

“No,” Scorpius said slowly. “But that’s because _he_ respects other people’s privacy.”

Rose snorted. “And of course you don’t.”

“Not yours at any rate. I was worried. You haven’t been yourself.”

“I’m fine,” she said too quickly.

Scorpius heaved a sigh and stepped into the room, sitting down on her bench. “Liar. And a poor one at that.”

She leaned her head against the cool stone of the wall and let her eyes slip closed. “What am I going to do now? I planned my whole life up until this point. Gryffindor. Prefect. Head Girl. What if I peak at Hogwarts? What if I never figure out what matters?”

“Impossible,” he said at once.

“Easy for you to say. You know exactly what you’re going to do.”

“I know what I want to do, Rose. But am I going to be able to do it?”

Her eyes popped open and she wrinkled her nose. “But you’ve already gotten your preliminary acceptance into the program.”

“And I’m a Malfoy,” he said simply.

“Don’t be stupid. Uncle Harry doesn’t care about that. So long as you make your N.E.W.T. requirements and make it through the trials then you’re set.”

“Not everyone is as saint-like and forgiving as your Uncle Harry.”

His voice had that matter-of-fact flippancy that always annoyed her, and she scowled. “If that’s a shot at my dad then - ”

“Retract the claws, Rose. Your dad has never been anything but civil to me. It was a shot at the rest of our world, and at the people who haven’t forgotten what the name Malfoy meant for hundreds of years. The people who _won’t_ forget. Your Uncle accepted me into the training program, but I’m going to have to work twice as hard as the rest.”

“But you’ll do it,” she said, with absolute conviction. Being accepted was a long shot at best - at most 2 positions were offered each year and only one to a Hogwarts student, if any offers were made at all. “You’ll get the N.E.W.T.s you need no problem.”

He smirked. “I know.”

“Practicing the obligatory auror arrogance?” she teased.

“I know because I’ll make it work. Because I’d give up anything for this.”

“Anything?” she asked quietly.

He hesitated just a moment, pausing to stare down at his hands in a way that reminded her so much of their first day at Hogwarts that she wanted to cry. “Yes. This is that important to me. You just haven’t found that yet. Take some time off. Do a gap year. Have some fun. Merlin knows you’ve earned it.”

She frowned, thinking maybe she _had_ found it and hating that she couldn’t tell him. “I just feel restless. I want to start living my life and - ”

“Rubbish. You’re afraid of disappointing everyone. Al’s been fretting about it for ages.”

“It’s not that.” And it really wasn’t. People often expected her parents and their contemporaries - the people who had shed blood in the war - to cling hardest to the old prejudices and the old traditions. Rose was blessed with a family who would love and support her no matter what she decided as long as she was doing something that made her happy. Everyone had expected she or Albus or James to end up an Auror, but - so far - not a single Weasley or Potter had shown the slightest interest. She’d overheard her dad talking to her mum about how proud it made him that they did their job so well that the next generation was out living their lives exactly the way they wanted to live them. That pride was the one thing that frightened Rose - that she would be the one to settle.

“Then what is it?”

“I’m not ready to talk about it yet, Scorpius.”

“Suit yourself,” he said, getting to his feet and stretching. “How do you sit in here for hours? I’m pretty sure my trunk has more space.”

“Not all of us are freakishly tall,” she replied, smiling and taking the hand he offered. “Walk with me back to the tower?”

“Can’t. Quidditch,” he said, gesturing to the scarlet robes hidden beneath his cloak.

He paused, his brow was furrowed and just the very corner of his bottom lip was pulled between his teeth. She knew he wanted to say something - to ask her just once more - but he refrained. It made her twitchy to know she was lying to him. “I’ll be fine, Scorpius. Tell Al to quit worrying.”

“I worry, too,” he said, almost defensively.

“I know,” she said, reaching out to squeeze his arm and trying to ignore the fizzing sensation in her stomach.

“I’m serious, Rose. I know something’s going on and I know you’re not telling us what it is. And that’s ok for now. I’ll give you time. But I’m your best friend, and you’re mental if you think I’m going to drop it.”

“Please,” she said, forcing a lightness to her voice that she didn’t feel. “When have I ever been able to keep a secret from you?”

He stared at her for a long moment before she finally looked away.

“Come on,” he said, resigned. “I’ll walk you back to the tower so you can get your cloak then you’re coming with me to practice.”

“But it’s snowing!”

“The cold air will be good for you,” he called over his shoulder as he led the way down the winding staircase.

“Every time you say that, I end up frozen and grumpy.”

“I like you grumpy,” he laughed as they headed for the main corridor.


	3. Chapter 3

Al was waiting for them, Rose’s cloak in one hand and a jar of blue flames in the other. “Remind me to thank Aunt Hermione again for this little trick,” he said, handing Rose’s cloak over.

Together, the three of them stepped out into the biting wind and headed down to the pitch. The rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team was waiting for them, Lily and Hugo already bickering. Unlike Rose and Al, Lily and Hugo had paired off more by necessity than disposition, but they were good for each other, even if they fought more than the rest of the Weasley clan combined.

“I’m going to spend the rest of my life refereeing Weasleys, aren’t I?” Scorpius groaned.

“And Potters,” Albus reminded cheerfully, tugging Rose up into the stands.

Rose watched as Scorpius took his place in front of the goal posts, barking orders to his team. Lorcan and Lysander Lovegood were already in the air, and soon Lily, Hugo, Martin Shacklebolt, and Katie Finnegan joined them.

“So he found you then?” Al asked as Scorpius began bellowing orders.

“Obviously.”

“I tried to tell him to leave you be, but you know how he gets when he’s in a strop about something,” Al said, shaking snow out of his messy hair before performing an impervious charm.

“I don’t even know how he found me.”

“Neither do I, and he won’t tell me where it is you disappear to.”

“Good.” She smiled softly, pulling her cloak more tightly around her. “Thanks for not letting him use the map.”

“The map isn’t for that kind of mischief,” Al said with a grin.

They sat in silence as they watched practice, Rose’s eyes following Scorpius as he shifted from hoop to hoop, pausing every now and then to offer a suggestion or, more than once, referee Lily and Hugo’s name-calling.

“When are you going to tell him?” Al asked, leaning close to her ear.

She froze, her eyes opening wide and her heart thundering like a herd of hippogriffs in her chest.

“I saw the letter this morning, Rose. Well, the seal anyway. My dad gets them sometimes.”

“Al…”

He held up his hand. “Don’t apologize. They’re called Unspeakables for a reason. I wasn’t going to say anything, but you didn’t seem surprised to get it and with all the sneaking off and hiding you’ve been doing, I wanted you to know that you could talk to me.”

“Thanks,” she whispered, staring at Scorpius across the pitch. His white blonde hair was whipping around his face, his robes billowing around him. He was too busy bellowing at Hugo to notice her staring, and she felt the overwhelming need to drink him in while she still could. “You won’t – ”

“No. You’ll have to tell him eventually, though. Tell everyone for that matter.”

“I haven’t decided.” Her voice was shaky when she said it, and Al rolled his eyes.

“Bollocks. What would stop you?”

“Scorpius. You. Hugo. My parents. Our family.”

Al waved his hand airily, a gesture he’d picked up from her Aunt Ginny. “There are plenty of us. No one will miss you if you disappear for a few months.”

“Eighteen months, Al. Eighteen months just for the training. I won’t be able to see any of you, and I doubt I’ll even be able to write. I know I won’t be able to tell anyone what I’m doing. You’re not even supposed to know I’ve been asked. Only mum and dad.”

He was quiet for a long moment, and Rose was unnerved. Al was never reserved around her or anything less than sure of himself. It was the most comforting thing about him. And also the most annoying. “That’s not so long, Rose. Not if it’s where you belong.”

“But is it?” she asked, her eyes seeking out Scorpius, who was already staring at her, a strangely intense look on his face.

“It’s only eighteen months,” Al said, and she blushed as his eyes moved from her to Scorpius.

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who has to disappear.”

“It’s called wishful thinking, Rose. Merlin, your mum must be through the roof. Not about the you being gone part,” he said quickly as Rose raised her eyebrows. “About the intellectual prestige part.”

Rose’s eyebrows raised even higher. “The intellectual prestige part? And anyway, I haven’t told her yet. I was going to sit down with her and dad at the holiday. Dad’s going to do a nutter, I’m sure.”

“My dad’ll talk him out of it,” Al promised. “He probably already knows.”

“I know he does,” Rose said. “He recommended me.”

**********

Several long hours later, Rose was sitting on the floor of the empty Gryffindor common room in front of the fire, just starting to defrost, her ancient runes notes spread all around her. Her cat, Linus, was curled on the rug in front of the fire, purring softly.

“Your parents had the right idea,” Scorpius said, scowling over his own Arithmancy notes. “Seventh year is ridiculous and we should have skipped out.”

“Well, see Scorpius, there was this little thing called a war going on,” Al said lightly, scribbling notes in the margins of his potions book. “ _They_ were a tad preoccupied with _saving the wizarding world_.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Scorpius grumbled, shutting his book. “It’s too close to break. I can’t study anymore.”

“So bugger off,” Al grumbled back. “Some of us are busy.”

“Not all of us are secret Ravenclaws,” Scorpius said, throwing his quill at Al’s head.

Rose glared up at them both. “Some of us are wishing we _had_ been put in Ravenclaw. They at least know how to keep quiet when people are preparing for exams.”

“Too bad you’re a Gryffindor, then,” Scorpius countered. “Are you going to tell me what you and Al were talking about in the stands?”

“No wonder we almost lost that match to Slytherin. You’re too busy spying on private conversations to strategize,” Al said.

Scorpius threw a book this time, which a blushing Al dodged. “We don’t _have_ private conversations, Al.”

“Scorpius,” Rose said placatingly. “We were just talking about the holiday.”

“No, you weren’t. You had that look on your face that you get when you’ve been thinking too much. And Al was the smuggest I’ve ever seen him. I want to know.”

“But - “

“What? It’s a secret Weasley thing?” he demanded.

“You’d think after seven years you’d have gotten it through your thick skull that I’m a _Potter_ ,” Albus said indignantly, earning a glare from Rose. “You know what? I’m going to find Katie and ask her about this potions assignment. You two can stay here and duke it out. Just don’t come to me looking for a second. You know I could never choose between you.”

Rose rolled her eyes, watched him go. She was grateful that he’d managed to keep his mouth shut but annoyed that he’d left her to deal with this alone.

“Out with it, Weasley,” Scorpius demanded.

“I can’t,” she said simply. “I just can’t.”

“Al can know but I can’t?”

“Al figured it out,” she said, getting up and sitting next to him on the squashy sofa he’d been sprawled across. “I didn’t tell him. I haven’t told anyone.”

“If Al knows, I should know.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” she snapped, surprised by her flare of temper. “You don’t get to know every single thing I think just because we’re best friends.”

“I always have before!”

“Scorpius - ”

“No, Rose. Don’t try to reason with me. I’ve been worried about you for months. And if you won’t tell me I’ll guilt it out of Al. You know he’ll break.”

“You wouldn’t. You _can’t_!”

“Like hell I can’t!” he yelled, jumping to his feet and moving to pace in front of the fire. Linus hissed up at him before trotting over to an empty arm chair and settling down, his gold eyes following Scorpious’s path back and forth. “I thought something was wrong with you at first, but you never went to the hospital wing and Al would have mentioned if you were sick no matter what you told him. And then I thought maybe you were just scared about graduating and you needed time, so I tried to give you your space. I figured you’d come to us when you were ready, but I’m not going to be the only one who doesn’t know what’s going on with you. I won’t do it, Rose.”

She stared up at him. He was sucking in deep breaths as he always did when he was trying to put his temper into check, his cheeks were flushed, and the combination of the fire and the red of the room gave his silvery hair a strange pinkish tint. She wanted to tell him so badly. He was the one she’d wanted to tell most. She wanted him to talk her out of it. Or maybe into it. She couldn’t know what to do without knowing what he thought. Seeing him standing there, that strangely desperate look in his eyes, broke her.

“I got a job offer that I was hoping for,” she said, watching him watching the flames.

“A…job offer?” he replied looking up, brow furrowed. “But I don’t understand. Earlier you were - ”

“I didn’t know if I wanted to take it. I still don’t.”

“But - “

“I was offered a position with the Department of Mysteries.”

His whole body tensed before he turned his back on her, leaning his head against the mantle. Without thinking she was on her feet, moving to place her hand on his shoulder. “You can’t tell anyone,” she said quietly, fighting to keep a tremor out of her voice. “I haven’t decided - ”

“No,” he said, standing suddenly ramrod straight and looking at the ceiling. “No. You have to take it. Of course you have to take it.”

“It means - ”

“I know what it means. Eighteen months. _Eighteen months_.” His words came out in a strangled kind of whisper, and he buried his face in his hands.

“It’s not that long,” she tried.  “You’ll be in auror training and - ”

“Not that long?” he demanded softly, still refusing to meet her eye. “Rose. Come on.”

“That’s why I didn’t want to take it,” she pleaded. “I can’t bear the thought of eighteen months without you.”

Now his eyes were locked onto hers, and she froze as the meaning of what she’d just said slammed into her.

“Scorpius - ”

He walked toward her slowly, his gaze still locked on hers and her stomach somersaulted. “What am I supposed to do without you for eighteen months?”

“I don’t know.” She hadn’t figured out what she was going to do without him, and had no idea what she could tell him.

“Neither do I,” he said, and he reached out and pulled her to his chest. She buried her face in the front of his robes, his head boy badge cool against her cheek. He held her tightly to him for a long time, before finally loosening his grip so that he could look down at her. “You know, the sorting hat didn’t want to put me in Gryffindor?”

When she didn’t answer, he continued. “It wanted to put me in Ravenclaw, which, for me, of course, was better than Slytherin, no matter what you always say. But I knew I wanted to be a Gryffindor. I knew I needed to be around people who could help me overcome my family name. I flat out told the hat it was Gryffindor or I was going home.

“My dad warned me that people would treat me differently; he told me what he was like to your mum and dad when he was at school before I even got my letter. But I didn’t care. I knew I had to be a Gryffindor. I knew from that first day I needed you and Al. You two are the most important people in my life. You know that, don’t you?”

“And you’re the most important in ours.”

“I want you to be happy, Rose. As happy as I know Al and I will be. Nothing will be the same with you gone, and I’ll miss you every day, but you can’t turn this down. I won’t let you; Al won’t let you; and we both know you won’t let yourself.”

“Scorpius,” she implored. “I don’t want - ”

But she didn’t finish her sentence, because he’d pulled her to his chest once more. They stood together for a long time, Linus curling around their ankles, before Scorpius ghosted a kiss to the top of her head and slipped up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory.


	4. Chapter 4

“Mum,” Rose said slowly, watching her mother, Hermione Granger-Weasley, read a legal brief. She was twisting a long strand of hair around a quill, her nose wrinkling the way it always did when she read something that annoyed her.

“Yes, darling?” her mum asked without looking up.

“I got a job offer,” she said, figuring it would be best to blurt it out

“That’s nice.”

Rose sat, sipping her tea and waiting for her words to sink in. It took longer than expected for mum to drop the papers and stop twirling her hair. When it finally happened, mum burst into a grin, clapping her hands together.

“Rose! And it’s something you want, then?”

“Yes,” Rose said, staring down at the table. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to take it, actually.”

“Well,” her mum demanded, a smile erupting on her face. “Tell me everything!”

“There’s not much I _can_ tell you, actually?”

“Rose Weasley, surely you haven’t considered a job without getting all of the facts and a - “

“Mum,” Rose interrupted, rolling her eyes skyward. She’d learned long ago from her father that the trick was to butt in early enough to slow her mother’s momentum (“Sometimes it’s like being married to your Gran,” her dad had once confided with a shudder).

“Sorry, sorry,” her mum said just a little breathlessly.

“It’s with the Department of Mysteries.”

Her mother, like Scorpius, froze. Her eyes narrowed, and she slapped her hand on the worn wood of the kitchen table. “I’m going to jinx your Uncle into next week the first chance I get.”

“Mum!”

“He didn’t tell your father, did he? If he told Ron then - ”

“Told Ron what?” her father asked, coming into the kitchen and heading, as always, straight for the cupboards. “Eggs, Rosie?”

“Sure, dad,” Rose said, and the pang she felt at the familiar scene - her father tucking a kitchen towel into his jean pocket and toasting bread with his wand as her mother sat, arms crossed and brain whirring - made her want to give up the idea of being an Unspeakable all over again.

“Ronald,” her mum said. “Have you spoken to our former best friend lately?”

“What?” her dad asked around a mouthful of toast. “Course I did. Owled me this morning. And what’s this about him being our _former_ best friend?”

“Rose?” her mum prompted, and Rose buried her face in her hands.

“What’s this got to do with Rosie?” her dad demanded, dropping his toast to the counter. “Is this about that Malfoy boy?”

“Dad! You _like_ Scorpius.”

“Like might be taking it a little too far,” he mumbled, picking his toast back up. “Well, if they’ve not run off to elope, I don’t see the problem.”

“Scorpius is my friend!” Rose interjected, her face hot.

“Oh, yes. Your _friend_. I was your mother’s _friend_ once. Don’t think I don’t know exactly what ol’ Scorpius is - ”

“Dearheart,” her mum interrupted with infuriating patience. “Perhaps you should let Rose and I finish our chat.”

“I bloody well think not,” her dad said, crossing his arms and giving them an expectant look.

“Thanks a lot, mum,” Rose sighed.

“Well, you’re going to have to tell him _eventually.”_

_“Tell. Me. What?”_

Feeling rather cross about how the turn her carefully planned conversation had taken, she bit out, “I’ve been asked to join the Department of Mysteries.”

Her father stared at her, mouth open before shaking his head and storming across to the fireplace that took up a corner of the kitchen. He reached into a pot on the mantle, pulled out a handful of floo powder and threw it into the flames. “Harry!” he bellowed. “Harry Potter, get your stupid arse in my fireplace right bloody now!”

Rose gave her mother a look, and when Hermione merely shrugged her shoulders Rose hunched down in her chair with a huff.

Within seconds, her uncle’s messy hair appeared in the fireplace. He was still adjusting his glasses and blinking fast.

“Ron? Oh, hullo Hermione. Rose. What’s wrong? Hugo just popped over.”

“You bloody well know exactly what this about,” her dad seethed.

Uncle Harry glanced her direction and Rose gave a helpless shake of her head. “Don’t be a tosspot. They’ve been watching her progress for ages. Don’t ask me how they know to bother, but they do. This is the first offer they’ve made in eleven years. They came to me, and I gave my endorsement. You’d have done the same.”

“I ruddy well would not! What if it were Lily? Or Al?”

Uncle Harry snorted. “Al can no more keep a secret than you can. And Lily’s too caught up in Quidditch to care about much of anything. She’s driving Gin spare.”

“She’s only seventeen!”

“Oh, Ron,” Hermione harumphed. “Think about what we were doing at seventeen.”

“I did that so she wouldn’t have to! We all did!”

“Merlin’s beard!” Rose finally exclaimed. “I’m sitting right here!”

They all turned to look at her and she closed her eyes and counted to ten. “Uncle Harry, thanks for what you said. Just now and to…well, to whomever it was. But I think I need to talk to mum and dad.”

“Right,” he said quickly. “See you at the burrow later?”

“Not like I can help it,” her dad muttered.

“Heard that. Cheers, Hermione!” And then Uncle Harry was gone.

“Dad. I want this. I want it so badly. I want it badly enough that I’ve finally convinced myself I can bear the eighteen months of training. I hope you can, too.”

“Eighteen ruddy months,” he sighed, collapsing into a chair. “Well, you’re bloody well not getting any eggs now.”

Her mum sat back in her chair and smiled across the table at dad. “Run along, dear, and let me talk to Rose.”

“This isn’t over, young lady,” dad said, wagging a finger at Rose. “My office later.”

She answered with a kiss to his cheek, and he patted her head and stood, stepping out of the kitchen.

Her mother waited and the door to her dad’s study had shut before speaking. “Rose, I’m very proud of you.”

“Thanks, mum,” Rose said, fighting down a blush.

“You got all the best parts of your father and I and - “

“Hugo got the worst?”

“Very clever, but no. Your father’s been worried about where you’d end up ever since he saw your OWLs”

“You got - “

“Not quite as many,” her mum said, smiling at Rose fondly. “Truth be told, you remind me more of your Uncle than of your dad or me. I expect that’s what scares dad most.”

“I’m nothing like Uncle Harry,” Rose said, wrinkling her nose.

Her mother just laughed. “You are more than you realize. He was always the best of the three of us. The bravest. The most loyal. The most selfless. The most driven. He still is, at that. I don’t know how Ginny puts up with him.”

“Saint Potter,” Rose said. “That’s what Scorpius calls him.”

“Ah, yes,” mum said, raising an eyebrow and sipping her tea innocently. “Scorpius.”

“Oh sod it.” Rose said, dropping her head to the table with a thud.

“Rose. You knew I’d be pleased as punch about your job. I’ll miss you, of course, but you’re an adult. I can’t expect you to live at home forever. Logically, I can only assume you came to talk to me about the eighteen months away your father is currently despairing over in his office.”

“Dad’s right. You’re insufferable.”

 “He’s suffered me just fine for thirty years now.”

“I don’t even know where to start. I don’t even know how I started at all.”

Her mother’s smile was sympathetic now, and she reached out and took Rose’s hand. “That’s how it is, I’m afraid. Sometimes it hits you like a freight train - well, that’s how it was with your Uncle Harry, I think, but he’s not exactly _normal_ \- and sometimes it comes on so slowly you don’t even know it’s happened until you’re in over your head. Of course,” she continued with a pointed glance toward her husband’s office, “some people are just gits who can’t see what’s right in front of their stupid freckled faces.”

“I had never even considered it,” Rose said. “I’ve never considered it with _anyone_. I had to focus on school. I had to get top marks. I had to be head girl. But when I got that blasted letter my first thought was, ‘Oh, what will Scorpius say,’ and then he was all I could think about.”

“Your father is going to love this.”

“Real helpful, mum.”

“I’m sorry. Sometimes I think that a lifetime of friendship with your father and uncle has ruined me for serious conversation.”

“It had just never occurred to me,” Rose said, wishing her voice didn’t sound quite so desperate, quite so terrified. “He’s been a part of my life since I got to Hogwarts. I can’t imagine a life without him in it. At first I thought it was just because we’re friends, but it’s not the same as it is with Al, and I just don’t know what to do. Why do I have to start feeling this _now_? Why couldn’t my supposedly brilliant brain puzzle this together ages ago?”

“Because that’s not how it works, darling. Look at your father and I. It took three years and a bloody war to get him up to snuff.”

“Am I dad in this situation or you?” Rose asked, a little horrified.

“That depends. What does Scorpius say?”

Rose frowned into her now cold tea, thinking about the night she told him she might be an Unspeakable.

“Scorpius says he won’t let me turn this down.”

“I always knew I liked that boy.”

“But mum. Eighteen months. And what if - “

“You have to decide if it’s worth the risk. Or you could bugger all the sacrifices and handle it the Gryffindor way.”

“What’s that?”

“Show up at his house and blurt it all out.”

“Mum!”

“I’m serious!” Her mum laughed, throwing her hands up in the air. “It’s what your Aunt Ginny would do.”

“Please,” Rose said, rolling her eyes. “Lily never shuts up about how her mum loved her dad from the first moment she saw him blah blah blah.”

“Yes, but as soon as she had the slightest inkling that Harry might reciprocate her feelings, well, grab the lion by the mane and all that.”

“Gross,” Rose groaned, but she couldn’t hide her grin.

“I just want you to consider all your options, Rose”

“Right now I’m considering whether I can get a jinx in before you put up a shield charm.”

“Unlikely,” mum said, getting up magicking their teacups to the sink. “And I think you need to go talk to your father now before his feelings get hurt.”


	5. Chapter 5

Several hours later, Rose apparated into the Potter’s back garden. Lily and Hugo were sitting over a chessboard, shouting at their pieces. Neither acknowledged Rose until she stopped in front of them. “Are you two completely mental? It’s freezing out here.”

“Albus is in the basement,” Lily said, pausing to watch her knight take down Hugo’s rook. The savage glee in her cousin’s eyes was unnerving.

“You know he hates it when you call him that.”

“Of course,” Lily said brightly. “Come _on_ , Hugo. I haven’t got all day.”

“You done rowing with mum and dad yet?” Hugo asked, prodding his bishop forward.

“We weren’t rowing,” Rose replied indignantly.

“It sounded like rowing. Soon as I heard dad I popped straight into the fireplace.”

“Well, he’s just sulking now. So not a real row. He’ll be at Gran’s later.”

“Whatever you say,” he said, waving her off and staring at the board.

Rose let herself in the back door of Grimmauld place, wandering past the kitchen and into her Uncle’s study.

“Rose!” he said, crossing the room to pull her into a hug. “Your father stopped being a pig-headed git, yet?”

“For now. I’m sure he’s sitting at home researching the best hex he can put on you tonight, though.”

“He can try,” Uncle Harry said, green eyes twinkling. “Al’s in the basement.”

“Lily and Hugo told me. But actually…”

He gestured her to a chair. “Rose, you know that I can’t tell you anything. I don’t know much, but until you’ve done your training, well, they’re Unspeakables for a reason.”

“That’s what Al said.”

“Al’s a know-it-all,” he replied, and she grinned at him.

“The worst,” she agreed.

“He’s just like your mum, sometimes, I swear.”

“Mum said I was just like you,” Rose said without thinking and immediately felt a blush heat her cheeks.

“That,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “just might be the nicest thing your mum has ever said about me.”

“Uncle Harry? Do you think…I’d be doing something good, right? I’d be making a difference?”

“If all you want to do is make a difference, Rose, you could be an auror. Or work with your mum. Or be a healer. Or teach. Any number of things that would be safe and easy and wouldn’t mean eighteen months away from the people who love you. Is that all you want?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “No, it isn’t.”

“I think that’s all you need to know then.”

“Is it worth it?”

“Blimey, Rose. I couldn’t tell you. My job? My department? We work closely with the Unspeakables, but I don’t understand what they do. Hell, your mum, dad, and I just about tore the place to pieces and I still don’t get what goes on in there.”

“It’s just…eighteen months. And then, the rest of my life…”

“Sometimes, Rose, you have to leave behind people you care about so you can do the hard job,” Uncle Harry said quietly.

“Really?”

“Really. Ask your Aunt Ginny. Well, no. Don’t ask your Aunt Ginny. I don’t think she’ll ever let me live that down.”

Rose laughed, and some of the strange weight she’d been carrying seemed to lift.

“Rose,” Uncle Harry said slowly as she got up to head to the basement. “This person you care about, it’s not…is it…”

“Like I’m going to tell _you_ ,” she said, sticking her tongue out and slipping out the door before he could respond. She rounded the corner and saw Aunt Ginny sitting on the sofa, the Daily Prophet spread out in front of her and a stack of what could only be Quidditch stats at her side. The room was warm from the fire and everything was bright and clean, the Christmas tree sitting in the corner covered with delicate fairy lights. Her mum had told her what Grimmauld place had been like when it had belonged to the Black family, but looking at it now it was hard to believe it had ever been anything but cozy.

“Al’s in the basement,” Aunt Ginny said, smiling up at her.

“I can’t visit the rest of my family?” Rose asked in mock indignation.

“You two have been freakily attached since birth. It’s not natural,” Aunt Ginny said with an airy wave of her hand.

Rose just smiled at the gesture and headed down to the basement. As soon as she opened the door, a cloud of noxious purple smoke bellowed out. “What the hell, Al?” she asked, coughing.

“Right, right. Sorry!” he shouted and the smoke suddenly cleared.

“What are you doing?”

“Fiddling,” he said, eyeing a revolting looking black potion that was gurgling strangely over a very high flame.

“Do I want to know?”

“Probably not,” he said cheerfully. “What are you doing here? I thought we were seeing each other tonight?”

“I told mum and dad about the Unspeakables,” she said.

Al let out a low whistle. “And?”

“Mum took it fine, though she lost her temper thinking your dad had kept it from her. And then my dad blundered in and lost it. But we talked and he said he’s proud and that he always knew I was going to do something important. Like saving the bloody world is just no big deal.”

“They’re all ridiculous,” Al agreed.

This was one of her favorite things about Albus. James hated talking about his dad’s fame (“Because James can’t stand anyone else being the center of attention,” Al always said) and Lily and Hugo barely even seemed aware. But Rose and Al had realized early on what their parents had done and neither saw any reason to pretend it hadn’t happened.

She sank down onto a stool across from his cauldron and sat quietly, watching him work. Al, like his grandmother and both of his namesakes, was freakishly adept at potions. She and Scorpius were good, but Al just got it. Not that he seemed to be getting it particularly well at the moment.

“Whatever that is,” she said, pinching her nose closed, “cannot possibly be what you intended.”

Al ignored her. “Heard from Scorpius?”

“I’ve owled him three times. He finally owled me back two days ago, turning down a trip to Diagon Alley.”

“How come you didn’t invite me to Diagon Alley?” Al grumbled, shaking a generous amount of lacewing flies into his cauldron. It made a large burp and he did a gleeful little shimmy that Rose pretended not to see.

“If he’d said yes, I would have. He’s avoiding me.”

“Maybe.”

“Mum says I should be more like your mum and take the lion by the mane.”

“Oh, God,” Al groaned. “Stop. That’s bloody disgusting on so many levels.”

“And how long have you known, by the way?”

“Known? Oh. I didn’t know. Not until I cracked open the common room to see you two clutching each other like you’d never let go.”

“I didn’t hear you come in,” she accused.

“Exactly.”

“And it was just a hug! Friends can hug.”

“Oh yes. It looked very friendly, the way you two were standing there shattering your hearts into a million tiny pieces.”

“Your dad’s right. You’re a know-it-all.”

“Scorpius’s term is usually smug bastard, so know-it-all works just fine for me.”

“What am I supposed to do, Al?”

“Anything that doesn’t involve the phrase ‘taking the lion by the mane.’ Please, I beg you, as your cousin and your best friend.”

“Can you be serious for once!”

“What do you want me to say, Rose? That your life is complicated? That _his_ life is complicated? We’ve only just gotten our parents used to all of us being friends. And _you’re_ about to run off to be an Unspeakable and he’s going to be an auror…” Albus trailed off. “For the record, I hate that you’ll both be doing things that have me sitting at home wringing my hands and hoping you come back from whatever stupid assignment you’re on in one piece.”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she said, and her tone was almost pleading. “I don’t even know if I want it to. But it did and I can’t bloody help it!”

“Real romantic. Definitely put it to him like that.”

“Stuff it, Potter.”

“Look, _Weasley_. I only have so much advice to give and all I can think to tell you is that the three of us have never kept secrets from each other, not about things that matter. This matters. Now get the hell out of here or you’ll not make it back in time for dinner.”


	6. Chapter 6

When Rose popped up on the front step to Malfoy Manor, she couldn’t stop the tiny shudder that ran through her as she looked up at the imposing stone facade. Everything about it was cold and clinical, so different from The Burrow or her house or Grimmauld Place. She knew, of course, what had happened in this house. Everyone who could _read_ knew about the torture and the murders that had happened on the other side of that door. No matter how many times she told herself that it wasn’t Scorpius, that he just lived there, his house flat out gave her the creeps.

Steeling herself, she reached up a fist to knock. As always, the door swung immediately open and she stepped into the cavernous entry hall, tugging her cloak tightly around her. “Miss Rose Weasley,” echoed throughout the space. She hoped that it would not be his grandmother who answered the call.

Rose felt like she’d been waiting forever when Scorpius’s father finally appeared, tucking a paper under his arm as he walked.

“Rose,” he said quietly, nodding at her.

“Mr. Malfoy,” she responded. “I’m here to see Scorpius.”

“He’s not in at the moment, I’m afraid.”

“Is he…is he really not in? Or did he ask you to tell me that?”

“He’s really not in. He took his Firebolt out early this morning and I’ve not seen him since.”

“Oh. Well, ok. Could you maybe tell him I stopped by and - “

“You’re welcome to wait, if you’d like.”

“Wait where?” she said in a panic and then cursed herself for her thoughtlessness.

Mr. Malfoy smiled at her sadly. “There’s a fire lit in Scorpius’s room.”

“Mr. Malfoy, I - “

“Rose, you’ve always been unfailingly polite to both my wife and myself. But you are a Weasley, and the daughter of Ron and Hermione at that. You never need to apologize for feeling uncomfortable in this house. These are the facts of the world we live in. I can no more run from my past and my name than can Scorpius, though Merlin knows he’s tried his damndest.”

“I…thank you,” she said, not sure what to say.

“Does your father know you’re here?”

“No, but my mother does.”

“Funny, that. Everyone always assumes that it’s your father and I who are likely to end up in a duel. I’d be much more scared of your mother.”

Privately, Rose thought he had a point. Her dad was civil to Mr. Malfoy, much like her Uncle Harry. Her mother, though she always appeared polite, wore a constant pinched expression whenever Scorpius’s father was mentioned.

She stood awkwardly and Mr. Malfoy gave her the same sad smile. “You know the way. You’ll be able to apparate out of his room if he doesn’t turn up.”

Rose somehow managed to give Mr. Malfoy a weak smile before disappearing up the stairs and following the winding corridors to Scorpius’s room. It was Scorpius’s fault she was so awkward around his parents. He didn’t like letting she and Al visit him at home, and Rose guessed she couldn’t blame him for that. It was so much simpler for him to visit her or Al - mostly Al - and she and Al had silently agreed that they’d never pressure him into inviting them to stay. She knew he wasn’t ashamed of being a Malfoy, or of his parents, really - “I can’t help who my parents are any more than they could any more than your mum can help it that her parents are muggles” - but she also knew that, if the Manor weren’t indestructible, he’d burn it to the ground.

When she got to his room, she cracked open the door. When she saw that he wasn’t inside she ventured in, unclasping her cloak and hanging it on a hook by the door. Scorpius’s room was neat as always, the large bed carefully made and all his books arranged on the wall of bookcases that took up one side. She walked over, sliding a muggle novel off the shelf and collapsing onto the leather sofa that sat nestled under a large picture window.

She’d barely made it through half a chapter when she heard his footsteps in the hall. She didn’t say anything as he came into the room, watching as he dumped his Firebolt next to the door and shed his cloak, shaking melted snow from his hair. He saw her cloak before he saw her and stood staring at it for a long moment before turning and walking the rest of the way into his room.

He heaved a sigh and fell face first onto his bed. “Thanks a lot, dad,” he mumbled into his quilt.

“I’ve not been here long,” she said. “You were avoiding me.”

“Wasn’t.”

“Oh? So, what? You can’t answer my owls now? You’d rather go racing around like an idiot on your broom than spend the day with Al and me?”

“Rose,” he said, rolling over and sitting up, his voice tired.

“No. You were the one who insisted that I tell you. You were the one who insisted that I take this bloody job. But now I’m just cut off?”

“It’s a lot, that’s all. I didn’t mean…it’s a lot.”

“Why?” she demanded. “Why is it a lot? We’re all going to be busy for the next few years. We’ve known this was coming for ages. We’ve talked about it. Al’s not even going to be in London!”

“Al can bloody well apparate from Scotland!”

“You’re not being fair. And I can’t do this without your support. I can’t do it and I’ll hate you, and I can’t do that either.”

“You have my support. Of course you do, Rose. I just needed to have some time to think.”

“Thinking is overrated.”

“Says the witch who’s about to become an Unspeakable,” he snapped, leaping to his feet.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky,” she snapped right back. “Maybe they’ll chuck me out.”

“Damn it, Rose! You know that’s not what I want.”

“So stop acting like this,” she begged.

“If you’d just told me when you found out I’d be passed the anger stage already.”

“You have absolutely no right to be angry with me, Scorpius Malfoy. No right. Did you consult me about being an auror? No. Did Al get my permission to take his fellowship? Of course not.”

“I’ve wanted to be an auror since I could _walk_ ,” he ground out.

“And I didn’t even think to want this for myself. I’m sorry we can’t all be as far-seeing as the great Scorpius ‘master-of-the-universe’ Malfoy,” she spat.

“Did you come here to pick a fight with me? Because if you did you can just sod off.” He was yelling now, and he had that look on his face that said he was fighting desperately with his temper. She almost hoped he lost it. If he did, he’d say something terrible and she could apparate home and she’d never have to tell him. But no. She was a Gryffindor for a reason, and she could face this.

“As a matter of fact,” she said, leaning back on the sofa, “I didn’t.”

“Oh?” he questioned with a savage smirk.

“I told my parents about the Department of Mysteries this morning. My mum and I had a long talk about why it took me so long to decide I was going to do this.”

“Because you’re incapable of doing something that’s not by committee?”

Rose’s face heated up and she glared him hard enough that he had to look away. She closed her eyes and, when she opened them again, Scorpius was staring out his bedroom window. “Sorry,” he said softly.

“Scorpius, I love you – ”

“I know,” he said immediately. “And I love you, too, it’s just that - “

“No,” she said, trying to head him off. “I think I’m _in_ love with you.” The words, once said aloud, seemed to spread into every part of her, and it was almost terrifying to realize just how true they were.

“You…what?” Scorpius paled, looking rather like he’d been slammed into by a bludger.

“I didn’t realize it until I got the letter. I was going to turn down the job because of you.”

“Because of _me_ ,” he said aghast, almost stumbling backward. “Don’t be an idiot, Rose. I’m not worth that.”

“You are. But you’re also right. I want to do this. This is the thing that’s important enough.”

“I…Merlin’s beard, Rose. Way to knock a bloke off kilter.”

She stared down at her hands. “You don’t have to say anything. I almost didn’t. But this was important, and we don’t keep secrets from each other.”

“Yes,” he said, “we do.”

She looked up and when she saw the way he was looking at her it took everything she had not to leap into his arms. “What?”

“I can’t even remember when I started fancying you. Maybe the moment you told me you wouldn’t care if I was a Slytherin, though I obviously had no idea then and was too caught up in the fact that two Weasleys were actually speaking to me in words that weren’t jinxes to really notice.”

“Al’s a Potter,” Rose said, immediately cursing herself for interrupting him.

“Don’t change the subject or you’ll derail what I’m sure is going to be a really moving speech once I remember what I was saying.”

“Two gits didn’t hex you out of their compartment,” Rose reminded him with a smile. Even as her heart was pounding at his words, the familiarity of _this_ Scorpius soothed her nerves.

He closed his eyes for a long minute and when he reopened him, she saw determination and conviction. “Eventually, I realized how I felt. I wanted to tell you so many times, just so you’d know. I’d try to tell myself that if you told me to bugger off at least that was better than the waiting. But I was afraid I’d ruin our friendship and - ”

“ _Nothing_ will ruin our friendship.” Her tone was collected and sure because _that_ at least was the one thing of which she could always be certain.

“I know that, but I was fifteen years old when I noticed how nice you looked in your cardigans and those skirts you wear and – ”

“Scorpius.”

 “You were always so serious about school and the future. At first, I thought you just hadn’t had any offers. Then sixth year I heard you’d turned down that seventh year Ravenclaw git. When Al was teasing you and you said that you didn’t have time for all that nonsense until you’d graduated, I figured I’d wait. I’d waited two years already, I could wait one more. Now you get this ruddy letter right when I’d almost made it! Six more months turned into two years. You’re my best friend, and I can’t exactly try to stop you from pursuing your dream, not when you’ve been so supportive of mine. But…you know me. Patience has never been one of my virtues, Rose, and neither has self-denial.”

All Rose could do was stare at him, dumbfounded. “Three years,” she breathed. “Does Al know?”

“Of course Al doesn’t bloody know! If Al knew, you’d know. He’s the only one of the three of us who doesn’t, in fact, keep secrets.”

“God, I’m my dad,” Rose groaned, burying her face in her hands.

“Pardon?” Scorpius asked, clearly taken aback by what must have seemed to him a very abrupt change of subject.

“My mum was explaining to me how my dad was this stupid git who couldn’t see what was right in front of his stupid git face, and clearly stupid git daughter like stupid git father. I’m the stupid git! It’s me!”

“Rose,” Scorpius said gently, but with just enough amusement to have her crossing her arms in a huff. “Calm down.”

“What are we going to do, Scorpius?” she asked as he crossed the room to sit at her side. “We’ve got six more months. Six! And then it’s goodbye for at least eighteen. I can’t…how can I - “

“I don’t know,” he said, his arm sliding around her shoulders to tug her closer to him. “But we’ll figure it out.”

“I love you, Scorpius, but I don’t know what that means.”

“Well usually,” he said, innocently, “That means a certain amount of snogging.”

She looked up at him, at the hopeful expression in his cool gray eyes and at the mouth she thought she knew so well and promptly burst into tears.

“Rose!”

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry. But this is so unfair. I can’t just be with you for six months and give that up. How could I give that up?”

“You wouldn’t be giving anything up,” he argued, pulling her into his lap as she cried into his chest.

“I can’t ask you to wait around for eighteen months, Scorpius, I can’t. I’ll barely be able to owl, if I’m even allowed to do that!”

“I’ll find a way,” he said, pulling her away from him and forcing her to meet his gaze. There was an intensity there that unnerved her and, without thinking, she reached out and placed her hand on his cheek.

As soon as her skin met his, Scorpius sucked in a breath.

“Scorpius,” she whispered and, without thinking about it anymore, leaned up and brushed her lips against his cheek.

His eyes flashed open and he searched her face for all of two seconds before he leaned down. Cool lips pressed against hers, rough hands cupped her cheeks, and her entire world tilted on its axis. The first few seconds of the kiss were gentle, but that was as long as they could last.  The next thing that Rose knew, she was being clutched to Scorpius’s chest as he maneuvered them down onto the couch. Everything seemed fast, frantic even: his touches, their breathing, her heartbeat…

Her hands, unable to reach under his robes, found themselves tangled in his hair, and she allowed herself a second to think that it was as soft as she’d always assumed it must be. Her fingers trailed downward along the sinewy muscles of his neck to rest on the broad shoulders that felt strangely narrow in her grip. 

_His_ hands were all over her – clutching her face, sliding into her hair, running up and down her back, grabbing her shoulders. She felt his tongue slide along her bottom lip and couldn’t stop the moan that slipped out. Both of them froze, staring at each other. Scorpius’s face was flushed, his eyes burning. His breath was coming in ragged gasps and Rose was surprised that she was still managing to breathe at all.

“Bloody hell,” he groaned, sitting up and burying his face in his hands. “Bloody bleeding buggering damn sodding hell.”

“That bad?” she asked, sitting up and trying to tame her hair.

He shot her a look from behind his fingers. Slowly, he dragged his hands down his face and let them fall onto his lap.

“I knew it would be like that for us,” he said simply. “And it was still better than I imagined.”

“You imagined that a lot then?” Rose asked.

“If you really want me to answer that question, I’m happy to share. After all, we don’t keep secrets.”

“We can’t joke our way out of this, Scorpius.”

“How very responsible of you,” he scowled. “Please. Let’s logically dissect the best snogging session of my life.”

“There have been others?” she asked, feeling a tiny spike of irrational rage.

“Come on, Rose. No. But that’s not exactly the salient point in this discussion.”

“What are we going to do? Are we…should we…”

“Bugger if I know,” he said, leaning back on the couch and covering his eyes with the crook of his arm. “But if you think I’m going to forget what happened just now you’re crazy.”

“I don’t want to forget it, Scorpius. But we have to be realistic. I’m leaving in June, just as soon as we finish our N.E.W.T.s.”

“That’s ages away. Loads of time that we could be together.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes.” His answer was immediate and emphatic. “But this isn’t about what we want, Rose.”

“So…we impedimenta this whole thing until I’m done with my training?”

“We have to.”

“Scorpius, I - ”

She didn’t finish her sentence before his lips were back on hers. There was a desperation this time that broke her heart. He clutched at her, and she pressed herself as close to him as she could. Rose couldn’t get enough of him; his lips, his hands, the way he whispered her name seemingly without realizing it. As he trailed kisses along her jaw and down her throat she seriously considered telling the entire Ministry of Magic to bugger off.

Rose broke away this time, trying to catch her breath, and when she looked at Scorpius, he was resigned.

“You’re right. We have to stop this,” he said. “If we start now, I’ll never be able to let you disappear for a bloody year and a half and you’ll hate me and I’ll hate myself.”

“What if I said I’d hate you if we stopped?”

He smiled at her, and it was the same sad smile she’d seen on his father. “I’d know you were lying.”

“This is so unfair,” she said again, tears brimming in her eyes.

“We were friends first, Rose. We’ll always be friends, no matter what comes later. So friends we’ll remain.”

“Friends who happen to be in love with each other?” There was a bitterness in her tone that she wished she could take back, but there was no point in apologizing for it. She _was_ bitter.

“Yes. And in two years, we’ll still be friends who are in love with each other. Hopefully there will be some shagging by then, but the point remains.”

“You’re a prat,” she said, just barely managing to give him a wobbly smile.

“What are we going to tell Al?”

“Nothing! Do you want my entire family to know that you want to shag me?”

“He’s going to want to know what happened here. I’m assuming you told him you’d be stopping by.”

“We discussed it,” she said cagily, and he rolled his eyes.

“He’s not going to drop it.”

“If he doesn’t, we’ll tell him we discussed our feelings like mature adults and made the responsible decision to wait until we are both done with our training before we pursue anything other than friendship.”

“And also that we are incredibly compatible.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Her whole face flushed this time. “Sure. I’ll just mention how very compatible your hands are with my bum, shall I?”

“Spoilsport.”

“I’ve got to go. I promised Mum I’d be at The Burrow in time to help get the tables set up.”

“Wait. Before you leave,” he said, walking over to the large wardrobe in the corner and rummaging about. “I’m apparently going to be in Egypt for the rest of break and I was just going to owl these to you and Al, but would you mind?”

He emerged from the wardrobe with two packages, both immaculately wrapped, and handed them to her. “Do not open before December 25,” he said with a smile.

“I won’t,” she promised. “I didn’t know if you’d speak to me, so I’ll have to owl yours.”

“Happy Christmas, Rose,” he said and, after a moment’s hesitation, pulled her in for a hug. “Friends hug, right?”

“Yes,” she whispered into his jumper. “Friends do.”


	7. Chapter 7

When Rose returned to Hogwarts, she accepted the position with the Department of Mysteries. She studied for her N.E.W.T.s. She watched Quidditch practice. She oversaw prefect meetings. And she and Scorpius went back to the way things had always been. Except that they didn’t. At all.

 For the first month they were back at school, pretending she hadn’t snogged her best friend was almost easy. Scorpius was tied up completely in getting ready for Gryffindor’s match versus Ravenclaw, and Rose spent half her time in the headmistress’s office filling out forms with a very somber wizard from the Ministry. When they were together, Al never left them alone. Rose couldn’t be positive if her cousin was playing third wheel on purpose, but she was more than a little grateful that Al knew both she and Scorpius so well.

 The second month was when they got into trouble. Gryffindor had eeked by Ravenclaw and didn’t have its final match against Hufflepuff for months; Rose had finished completing the paperwork for her position; and Al was looking very harassed as he oversaw the tutoring of the younger potions students. More often than not, she and Scorpius found themselves without Al as a buffer. After a lot of intense looks across the common room, Rose had taken to wandering the corridors for a little bit of peace. She didn’t dare return to her little room; the thought alone of Scorpius finding her and filling up the tiny space was too much for her imagination.

One day, she’d just emerged from a deserted third floor corridor when she rounded a corner and almost ran straight into Scorpius, his magnificent scowl replaced with grim resignation as he saw her.

 “Scorpius, I - ”                                   

 But she didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence before her back was pressed against the cold stone wall and his warm lips were moving with her own. It was a frantic few seconds before he tore himself away, turning his back to her and running his hands through his hair. When he looked at her again, his eyes were blazing. With a simple, “I’m not sorry,” he turned and departed.

 After that he was everywhere, even when he wasn’t. She imagined footsteps every time she was alone, her heart hammering in anticipation. Every door she opened and every corner she rounded, she held her breath.

 Two weeks passed before she was alone with him again. She was in the potions dungeon trying to find Al and looked up to see Scorpius standing in the doorway, flames flickering across his carefully controlled features. She watched as he stepped into the room and without thinking began walking toward him.

“I was looking for Al,” Scorpious said defensively. “He said he was tutoring and I’m starting to think he made the whole thing up because this is the third time I’ve been down here that he hasn’t been here so - “

This time Rose did the interrupting, lifting up onto her tiptoes to press her lips gently against his. There was nothing frantic about this kiss. It was slow and tender and her face was cradled in his hands in a way that made her feel infinitely precious. When she finally pulled away, she met his eyes. “I’m not sorry, either,” she said before slipping from the room and sprinting back to her dormitory.

The third month, they were both so deep in N.E.W.T. preparation that, as Scorpius admitted to her, blinking blearily up from his transfiguration notes at about one am, the _thought_ of snogging was simply exhausting. It was easier when they were studying, sitting next to each other and handing off flashcards and notes, arguing theories, fighting over practical applications for ancient runes, to remember why they became friends in the first place. But no matter how comfortable she was, there was always that tiny ball of nerves in her stomach that could explode with just a look or a brushing of hands. It was impossible to forget, and so she told herself ignoring it was practice. Practice for not having him around at all.

The fourth month, what little time they had for distraction was completely consumed with trying to figure out what was going on with Al.

“Think it’s a girl?” Rose asked one day while they sat in the common room, waiting for Al to show up from wherever it was that he disappeared to. “I mean, he’s never shown an interest before, but stranger things have happened with him.”

“Maybe it’s a bloke,” Scorpious said, tapping his nose with his quill and smirking.

“Could be,” Rose said thoughtfully. “But neither seems like Al. Why wouldn’t he tell us?”

“And how has he managed to keep it secret.”

“Well, we’ve been a little preoccupied,” she pointed out, shuffling through her charms flash cards and not daring to meet his eyes.

“I don’t like it,” Scorpius said. “He tells us everything, whether we want to know it or not.”

“I know his fellowship is still secure. I know his family’s fine.”

“Whose family is fine?” Al’s voice asked, and Rose looked up just in time to see him flop down between she and Scorpius on the sofa.

“Where the bloody hell have you been?”

“He thinks it’s a bloke,” Rose said.

“It’s not a bloke,” Al said. “Or a girl.”

“So then what?” Scorpius demanded.

“I told you, I’ve been tutoring.”

“We were in the potions dungeon last month and you weren’t there,” Rose pointed out.

Al’s ears burned bright red, and Rose frowned as he buried his face in his bag and pretended to search. “Maybe I’d just left.”

“Impossible,” Scorpius pointed out. “I arrived after Rose. I would have seen you in the corridors.”

“All right!” Al blurted out. “I’ve been avoiding the pair of you.”

“What?” Scorpius demanded, head rearing back in shock. “What’d we do?”

“For starters, creeping me out with all the staring.”

“Al,” Rose sighed.

“I think you’re both idiots. Giant gits. Proper prats.”

“Piss off Potter?” Scorpius drawled, and Al’s eyes flashed.

“Am I supposed to sit here and pretend everything is perfectly normal while the two of you are miserably mental, _Malfoy_?”

“I’m not miserable, Al,” Rose said, needing to stop their bickering before either of them had a chance to get on a roll. “And I’m sorry if we’ve worried you.”

“Don’t apologize to him,” Scorpius bit out, jumping to his feet and scowling at Al.

“Scorpius,” Rose said, bewildered. “What’s - ”

“No. We made a decision like adults and I won’t have - “

“Like adults? Merlin, Scorpius, adults understand that with relationships - “

“Seeing as you’ve never had a relationship, Al, I don’t think - “

“Oh, real nice. I’m too busy with you two to have time to - “

“I’m sorry we’re such a block to your love life that - “

“ _I’m_ sorry that you were too much of a _coward_ to - “

“So now I’m a coward? You, who’s never - “

Rose put her hands over her ears, not able to take the verbal sparring. The three of them almost never fought, and never about anything that mattered. Abruptly, she stood up. “Stop it! Both of you. I have barely three months left at Hogwarts and I won’t have seven years of friendship ruined over this. I won’t. Go have a duel. Punch each other. I don’t care. Just work it out!”

With that, she gathered her bags and stormed out of the common room. The entire walk she fought tears and, unable to think of anywhere else to run, she went straight for her nook. When she got there, she slammed the door, putting every locking spell on it that she knew. She collapsed onto her window seat, buried her face in her hands, and had a good cry. It felt good to let go, just for a moment, of the cultivated calm she’d forced since she returned to Hogwarts. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the soft, leather bound journal that had been her Christmas present from Scorpius. She flipped it open, running a finger over the inscription.

_For all the secrets you’ll never tell. Love, Scorpius_

Absently, still staring at the tidy script, she reached for a quill and started to write.

**********

They spent the fifth month ignoring each other, and it broke Rose’s heart. Al spent most of his time with Katie Finnegan, arguing obscure potions theory, and she had no idea what Scorpius was up to. She saw him in classes, of course, but he spent most of his time staring at his notes and none of it so much as glancing at her or Al. Once, she’d finally broken down and tried to call out to him in the hall but he’d simply walked away. When she’d turned around, Al was watching her, the betrayal clear on his face as he swept away in the opposite direction.

Every night she’d trudged to her hiding spot, no longer finding comfort in its tight quarters and quiet. Every night she’d take out her books and study, pausing every so often to glare at the little stack of envelopes from the ministry she’d hidden in her cupboard. Every night she’d sit waiting for Scorpius to turn up, Al in tow, and every night she’d pack up her bag, disappointed, and make her way back to Gryffindor tower. The solitude as terrifying. It was the first time she’d not spoken to either Scorpius or Al for more than a few days, and she suddenly didn’t know who she was. The thought of having to make it another day let alone months and months had her in tears.

It had been almost three weeks since she’d spoken to either Al or Scorpius when a knock on the door of her little room came.

“Rose, come on, let me in.”

She was startled to hear Al’s voice and got up to crack the door. “Please, Rose.”

Al stood, sheepishly holding up the Maurader’s map and chewing on his lip. Sighing, she swung the door open, frowning at the still forming bruise on his right cheek.

“What happened?” she asked, ushering him in and making him a cup of tea.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. I went mental; I _am_ going mental. I just don’t know what to say to the pair of you. I don’t know if I’m supposed to be supportive of your decision or if I’m supposed to be convincing you that we’ve all got this one life to live and you need to be living it.”

“Neither, I expect,” Rose said. “You’re just supposed to be Al.”

“Well, Al is worried that the pair of you are making yourselves miserable. At first it was just annoying. I never hang out with anyone else, not really, and I was afraid you two’d pair off and leave me behind. Then I started getting angry, because the more you both tried to act like nothing was going on, the more you shut down.”

“I’d never shut you out. Neither would Scorpius.”

“You’d never _mean_ to, but you have been,” Al said.

“And your solution was to ignore me for a month?”

“You ignored me, too!”

“And Scorpius is still ignoring the both of us,” she sighed.

“No,” Al said darkly. “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t count as ignoring someone if you punch them in the face.”

“No!” she exclaimed, looking again at his bruised cheek.

“In fairness, I bat bogeyed him first.”

“Al!”

“What? He went all typical Malfoy on me and lost his temper.”

“Typical Malfoys,” said a voice from the doorway, “do not lose their tempers in public. They tend to leave that to Weasleys.”

“Oh har har. Very funny. Bet you were the cleverest boy in the village.”

“I was, come to think on it,” Scorpius said. His tone was light, but he didn’t come inside, and he didn’t look at either of them.

“If you’ve come to hit me again, could you aim for my left side this time? That way I can have a matched set.”

“My dad always said bruises make a bloke mysterious,” Scorpius said.

“I guess two will make me doubly mysterious.”

“You two are unbearable,” Rose sighed, exasperated.

“And yet we’re still your best mates,” Al remarked. “Doesn’t speak very highly of you, does it?”

“Does this mean we’re done fighting now?” Rose asked. “I’m exhausted of avoiding the pair of you.”

“So am I,” agreed Scorpius. “But can we not ignore each other some place with a little more room to breathe?”


	8. Chapter 8

Rose’s last month at Hogwarts was completely consumed by N.E.W.T. preparation. She studied in class. She studied in the corridors. She studied at the breakfast table and in the common room.  Hugo and Lily, studying for their O.W.L.s, studied with them and hours would pass where the only sound came from the rustling of parchment and the scratching of quills.

Scorpius often sat next to her, his hand brushing hers as he reached for a chocolate frog or a spare bit of parchment. He never acknowledged the contact, but Rose could have sworn he was doing it on purpose. When she got up to go to the library, he went with her. When she decided to eat, he followed. If she headed to the one class they didn’t share - Care of Magical Creatures - he walked her across the grounds. He almost never actually spoke, but she heard his message loud and clear just the same.

At the end of the month, when they walked out of their final N.E.W.T. - Transfiguration - she, Scorpius, and Al just stared at each other.

“So that’s it then,” Al declared. “We’re officially done as Hogwarts students.”

Neither Rose nor Scorpius said anything, and they all stood, gazing up at the ceiling of the entrance hall. From the moment Rose had put down her quill a strange tension had leaked into every one of her muscles. This was the end; the future she’d so desperately wanted for herself had come, and she couldn’t face it. That this would be her last night at the castle that had given her a home and a friendship and a family she’d never have imagined for herself as she lay in bed dreaming of her first day was too much to consider. She felt the tears on her face and didn’t try to hide them.

“Rose,” Al said, sliding an arm around his shoulders. “We’ll be ok.”

Scorpius said nothing, just stepped forward and swiped the tears from her cheeks. Without pause, he reached for her hand and grabbed hold of Al’s robes, pulling them out the doors and into the warm sunshine of the late afternoon. He propelled them silently across the grounds and past the greenhouses. They wandered by the lake and the forbidden forest. They walked onto the Quidditch pitch, Rose and Al watching as Scorpius silently waved his wand over the base of one of the three rings and the initials SHM appeared. They waved at Hagrid, tending his vegetable garden, and headed back up toward the castle, stopping just at the little rise that gave a perfect view of every part of Hogwarts. Letting go of them both, Scorpius sat on the grass, long legs stretched in front of him, and tipped his face to the sky. Rose sat next to him, tucking her ankles under her as Al sprawled on his stomach, propping his chin on his hands.

“I’ve been afraid of this ending for so long,” Al said after a long silence. “I’ve wanted what comes next so badly, but I’ve never wanted this moment.”

“It’s not an ending,” Scorpius said, staring out across the grounds. Rose too looked out over the place that had given her everything. Dusk was settling down, and the hazy glow of the sun gave the castle a warm glow.

“It’s a beginning,” she agreed. “Hogwarts will always be a part of us.”

“For another week anyway,” Al said, a bittersweet smile spreading across his face.

“Not for me,” Rose whispered.

Al jerked around to look at her, but Scorpius didn’t so much as glance up from the piece of grass he was shredding. “What do you mean?”

“I leave tonight.”

“But our N.E.W.T. results and - ”

“I don’t need to wait for mine,” she said. “I’m in regardless of marks.”

“But it’s your last week! You have to say goodbye!”

“I told you, Al,” she said in a tone of condescending patience that would have made her mother proud. “I’m not saying goodbye. Not to Hogwarts and not to you.”

“Did you know about this?” Al’s question was accusing, his eyes narrowed at Scorpius.

“Well,” Scorpius replied carefully, “she’s been saying for ages that she’d have to leave after our N.E.W.T.s. I actually assumed that as soon as she stepped out of the exam room she’d vanish in a puff of smoke.”

“How can you be so calm about this!”

Scorpius’s expression darkened. “I’ve spent six months trying to force myself to get used to the idea of her leaving us, Al. If I look at all calm, at least some of that time hasn’t been wasted.”

“Scorpius,” Rose breathed, reaching out for his hand.

“No. No goodbyes. You promised, and I won’t allow it.”

“Since when do you allow her to do anything?” Al huffed.

“Cheers, Al,” Rose said with a little salute.

“Don’t ‘Cheers, Al,’ me. My last week is ruined,” he moaned, collapsing face first into the grass.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Rose said with a cheerfulness she could just barely fake. “You’ll still have each other.”

“ _Don’t_ be thick. He’s going to be a miserable mope when you leave.”

“Sitting right here,” Scorpius drawled with a shake of his head.

“Are you saying you aren’t going to come over all grumpy and morose tomorrow morning?”

“You’re both going to survive,” Rose said, glancing at Scorpius out of the corner of her eye. “You’ll busy with your training that you’ll barely have time to miss me.”

“Like hell,” Scorpius muttered.

“See?” Al exclaimed triumphantly. “It’s already started. And you’re just abandoning me to deal with it all on my own.”

“Actually, Uncle Harry will have to deal with it. You’ll be in Scotland.”

“Excellent point,” Al said, with a little clap of his hands. “Dad’s sensitive, Scorpius. He loves to talk about feelings and  - ”

“The plan is to joke our way through the pain then?”

“Don’t we always?” Though it wasn’t as bright and open as usual, a smile had crept its way onto Al’s face. “Well, I’m going back to the common room.”

“But, Al - ”

Al ignored Rose’s protest, pulling her to her feet and wrapping her in a tight hug. “Go solve the hell out of the universe’s mysteries, favorite cousin. Try not to miss me _too_ much.”

Rose laughed, pulling away and ruffling his hair. “I love you, Al. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“If I followed that advice,” he called over his shoulder as he headed back toward the castle, “I’d never do anything!”

She stood and watched him walk away, her arms wrapped around her middle.

“Rose,” Scorpius said, and she gave a little jump when she realized he was right behind her.

Rose turned to face him, reaching out to take his hand. “I meant it. I won’t say goodbye.”

“And I meant it when I said I wouldn’t allow it.”

“So what can we say?” she asked, stepping closer.

“I love you,” he said simply. “And I’ll be waiting.”

“I can’t ask you to - ”

“Good thing you’re not asking. I’m telling. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Unable to stop herself, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was short and sweet, and it didn’t feel at all like a goodbye. When Rose stepped back, she didn’t look away.

“I love you, too.”

He bent down to kiss her cheek. “Owl me if you can.”

She nodded, and he turned and followed Al. Rose didn’t watch him walk away, instead going back to sit at the top of the rise. The sun was setting now, and it seemed fitting that her last glimpse of the castle would be the most beautiful it had ever looked. She thought of her trunk packed away in her room, of Linus given over to Lily’s safe keeping, and of the future that was spread out before her. She was just about to head back to the castle when there was a loud crack behind her.

Immediately she was on her feet, wand out, and staring in shock at the barely balding wizard standing before her in plain black robes.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

The wizard gave her an appraising glance. “Marcus Moon, Miss Weasley. I’ll be your mentor throughout your training. I’ve come to collect you.”

“You can’t apparate onto Hogwarts grounds,” she said, slowly lowering her wand.

“Is that what they told you?” he asked, his benign smile sending a flash of nerves through her. She didn’t say anything, and his smile widened. “Well, come along. We’re already running rather late.”

“But where are we - ”

“That’s for you to figure out.”

“How am I supposed to apparate if I don’t know where I’m going?”

“Destination, determination, deliberation, Miss Weasley.” With another crack, the wizard disappeared.

Rose, staring at the spot that he’d been for one long second, screwed her eyes shut, pulled out her wand, and vanished into the twilight.

 


	9. Chapter 9

In the year she’d been an Unspeakable, Rose had spent time in every room of the Department of Mysteries. She’d listened to lectures and taken notes in Thought, staring at the floating brains that had once attacked her father. She’d wandered the corridors of Time, studying the instruments and actually spending over a month with two other witches as they tried to reconstruct the time turners her parents had destroyed on that same visit. She’d floated through Space, staring at the universe and marveling at its vast expanse and interconnectivity. She’d gone into Love and come out feeling a wonder in her heart that she would never fully forget. She’d recorded prophecies and catalogued them, a process far more complicated than she’d imagined when her Uncle had told her of the small glass globe containing his. To her very great surprise, though, she spent most of her time in Death.

Her training hadn’t been anything like she’d imagined it would be. The first week had been the hardest. The most surprisingly difficult part of the transition had been adjusting to the lack of structure. The first six months she’d been left to simply wander and question. After seven years of regimented class schedules, color coded study charts, and carefully coordinated prefects meetings and duties, having total control of every aspect of her day left her feeling lost and a little helpless.

She slept in her tiny office. Every night, she’d wave her wand and her neatly organized desk and books would be replaced by a bed, a fat, squat armchair, and the few items she had designated to keep with her. The mantle of her fireplace never changed, filled to the brim with photos of her family and Scorpius.

A month into her training, she realized she’d written enough to fill the volume. She’d planned to put it away with the rest of her keepsakes, but when she went to do so, the pages were blank again and there was a second inscription.

_I told you that you think too much. Love, Scorpius_

Then, she’d found the veil. The voices were louder for her than for others, she knew, but their presence soothed her. The murmurings were peaceful, and the knowledge that they were there made Rose feel inexplicably safe in a time of otherwise chaos in her life. And so she often sat and listened and after a few weeks her brain began to work again.

For eight months Rose never left the department, and she spoke to no one who was not an Unspeakable. Once, she’d almost caught a glimpse of a wizard she was sure was her Uncle Harry in an office, but the door had closed and she was never sure. When she was finally allowed to leave the department, she accompanied Moon to strange sites of intense magic all over first England, then Scotland, then Europe, Africa, and, twice, Japan. She stared at runes and sat in fields and observed, and all the while her brain questioned. Every thought she had, every memory she made, went into her little diary. A few weeks into her travels and the little book was full again.

_I wish I was there to tell you how jealous I am of the adventure you must be on. Love, Scorpius_

That had been a hard night, and she’d spent an embarrassing amount of time running her fingers over the neat script as she sat in her chair and missed him. Through it all, she’d missed Scorpius and Al so much that it was a constant, nervous ache in her chest. The joy of every new discovery or experience was colored by her inability to share it with her best friends.

Now, at the year mark, her testing was to begin in earnest. Rose knew that if she did not pass these tests - and she still had no idea what to expect - that the last year of her memory would disappear and she’d start over as plain old Rose Weasley once more.

She was sitting in front of the veil, contemplating what the tests might be, when Moon slipped silently onto the bench next to her.

“Miss Weasley,” he said politely.

Turning to face him with a smile, she replied, “Moon, you really can call me Rose.”

It was a game she played, trying to get Moon to treat her like a friend. It was lonely work, being an Unspeakable. The department was a small one, and her Uncle Harry hadn’t lied when he’d said she was the first Unspeakable to be selected in eleven years. It meant that everyone was older than her, not that the rest of her coworkers were particularly sociable anyway. Moon had started Hogwarts with her parents, but was a Ravenclaw. For a while she thought that connection might get him to open up, but no matter how hard she tried or how crafty she was, he never warmed past professional courtesy.

“I have your assignment.”

Rose sucked in a breath. “Yes?”

He handed her a parchment, and she unrolled it with trembling hands. She read it and stared in confusion before looking questioningly at Moon.

“I’m to go to a pub?” She couldn’t quite keep the incredulity out of her tone.

“Yes,” Moon said simply.

“I’m to go to a Muggle pub as myself, sit for forty minutes, and observe?”

“Yes.”

“And I’m not to use magic?”

“Well, it is a _muggle_ pub, Miss Weasley.”

It was the closest thing to a joke she’d ever gotten from Moon and she couldn’t help beaming at him.

“But there has to be more to it than that.”

“There often is,” he said, and this time his voice was almost sad. “Remember. You may acknowledge no one. You are to observe and report back on every detail that you see.”

Rose nodded and Moon slipped away as quietly as he had arrived. She sat, parchment clenched in her hand, and listened to the voices call out to her. Sighing, she picked up her bag and headed to her room to change.

When she apparated around the corner from the pub, she frowned. Something about the place seemed familiar, but she couldn’t quite place what that something was. The evening was balmy and warm, and it felt good to be free of her robes, to let her hair float down past her shoulders and slip back into the world.

As soon as the door opened, someone called out to her. “Rose! Hey, Rose, over here!”

Immediately she knew why she had recognized this particular pub. With a deep breath, she walked to the bar, ignoring James’s repeated shouts to her. As far as most of her family knew, she was taking a gap year to have a tour. As far as four members of her family - James, Fred, Victoire, and Ted - knew, she was walking right past them and deliberately refusing to look their way.

As she ordered a pint - she had to drink _something_ or people would surely notice her - she heard their confused murmurings. Her whole body flushed in embarrassment, and tears threatened as James approached the bar.

“Rose! Didn’t you hear us? We’re over - ”

Willing herself not to cry, she slid her muggle money across the counter, collected her pint, and headed to a small booth in a corner.

“What the hell?” James demanded. “What the bloody hell. I’m standing right here. I know you can hear me!”

Ducking her head, she slid into her booth and took stock of her surroundings. As James pleaded with her, she counted the number of people in the room. She counted chairs and tables and memorized the pattern in the carpet. She focused on anything but the fact that her cousins were standing there, their begging becoming more and more belligerent, as she refused to acknowledge their existence.

“Is she ok?” Victoire was whispering to Ted.

Rose wanted to throw up. Still, she forced herself to keep drinking. As Fred slid in across from her, staring at her hard, she catalogued the songs that had played on the radio. She memorized the menu. She listened to the bartender’s conversations.

For thirty-six minutes she sat there, taking in every detail she could as one by one her cousins peeled away from her. She had four minutes left when James started yelling.

“It’s bad enough you don’t sodding write - Lily’s been moping around all summer - but now what? We’re not good enough for you anymore? You bloody leave without saying goodbye and - ”

As soon as the second hand indicated that her forty minutes were up she stood, collected her bag, and headed for the door. Behind her, her cousins called out to her again but she walked deliberately forward, stepped out into the evening, and barely made it around the corner before she was apparating back to the department.

Moon was waiting for her, arms crossed as he leaned against a wall. “Tell me everything.”

Implicitly she knew that he didn’t mean what had happened with her family, so she just started talking. Every tiny detail she’d used to distract herself, from the people to the conversations to the number of beers on tap, poured out of her. When she was finished she stood, chest heaving, and glared at Moon.

“Well done, Miss Weasley,” he said quietly before turning and leaving her in the corridor.

Alone, she slid down the wall and let her tears flow.

For the first five days after she’d ignored her family, she sat anxiously in her room, waiting for her next assignment. When it didn’t come, she spent two solid days in Love, looking for anything to fill the hole she’d had to dig inside of herself in order to turn her back on her cousins. Never before had she felt more selfish nor more unworthy of being a Weasley than she did in those days remembering those moments. Luckily, the second and third tasks came in quick succession, and neither, thankfully, involved seeing anyone she knew.

The second task was a series of puzzles that had to be put together, each of which formed the word in a riddle. Rose found it a relief after the emotional punch of her first task to do something so mindless and, frankly, easy. Moon looked over her work, gave a curt nod, and disappeared again. The third task involved the tracing of a myth to its source and uncovering the magic at its root. It took her six weeks and a trip to Wales, but she managed it. Moon again looked over her work, gave her a curt nod, and disappeared.

The fourth task was almost bizarre. Moon popped out from between the shelves one day as she was sorting prophecies, handed her a piece of paper, and told her to start writing down questions. The first thing she wrote was _Why am I writing questions?_ Then, for an hour, she sat on the floor, quill scratching, as she filled the rest of the parchment. When Moon snatched the parchment away from her, she looked up at him and wondered if her questions would be answered. He gestured for her to follow him, and together they went to Thought. With a wave of his wand, the words lifted off the parchment and flowed into the tank of brains, sinking into the eerie green liquid. Rose watched, fascinated, as her questions shimmered and faded away.

“Do I pass?” she asked, eyebrows raised as she continued to stare at the brains.

“Yes.” Moon walked out of the room, and Rose watched him go with a shake of her head.

Her next assignment came almost four agonizing months later. It was Christmas day and she was in Time repairing a time-turner. An elderly witch, appeared, dropped off the parchment, and walked silently away without even a hello. Rose clutched the task in her hand and hurried to her room, wanting to read what she was sure would be her final task in private.

When she finally sat at her desk and unrolled the parchment, she frowned. It was the most straightforward of all her assignments, but also seemed the most technically difficult, but then, she couldn’t imagine a more emotionally difficult task than her first.

Moon appeared as she was closing her bag.

“Miss Weasley.”

“Moon, come on. We’ve known each other a year. You’re my mentor - not that I think any of you understand what the word actually _means_ sometimes. Call me Rose.”

“Miss Weasley,” he said again, ignoring her. “I’ve come to ensure you have no questions about this final task?”

“What?” she asked, confused that he would offer help but relieved to know that this was in fact her final challenge. “No. I mean, it’s all in the assignment, isn’t it? Go to Dalby Forest and stop another ministry official from finding an artifact by finding it first myself.”

“Yes,” Moon said. “Another department is investigating a series of strange occurrences and disappearances. You must find the source before that department and return it to here for study.”

Rose frowned. “But what about the disappearances?”

“Once the object is removed, there will not be any more disappearances,” Moon said simply.

“I understand,” she said, shouldering her bag, retrieving her wand, and disappearing into the wilderness.


	10. Chapter 10

Dalby Forest was bitingly cold, and Rose pulled her cloak more tightly around her as she began to head toward her destination. Snow fell lightly onto the already white ground, and she silently performed a charm to erase her footprints and hide her presence in the wood. She knew she didn’t have much time - her assignment had said that the other department was mere hours away from finding the item - and so she picked up her pace. She knew she needed to find an ancient beech tree and that, once there, she would have to find a way to access the object hidden within the tree.

Finding the tree proved easier than she’d expected. As soon as she saw it, she knew deep in her gut that it was the one she sought. The tree seemed more alive than those around it, almost pulsing with a strange energy that drew her toward it. Sliding the strap of her bag over her head, she deposited it and herself on the snowy ground and stared hard at the trunk. There were no cracks or knotholes that she could see, and nothing to reveal signs of magical concealment to the naked eye.

Pulling out her wand, she pointed it at the tree’s trunk and said, “ _Arcanum Revealio_.”

After a few seconds, an area of the trunk began to let off a faint purple glow. With a triumphant smile, she walked to the trunk and observed the now shimmering bark. As the purple became more translucent, she saw the unmistakable outline of a tennis ball sized object within. Her assignment hadn’t told her anything about the object, only that it was dangerous to muggles. Not wanting to take a chance, she tapped her wand to her hand and watched as a thick metallic covering spread over her fingers and palm.

With a steadying breath, she reached her hand into the trunk. Her fingers touched a pulsating stone so hot that she felt its warmth through her protective glove. She grasped hold and pulled, gasping when a large, emerald-like stone appeared at the gap in the bark.

She’d just pulled the stone free when her triumph was marred by the sound of a familiarly frustrated voice behind her.

“Bloody trees all look the bloody same!”

Rose’s brain seemed to immediately shut down. Before she had a chance to gather her wits about her, Scorpius stepped into the little clearing. They stood in silence, Scorpius staring at her in dazed disbelief.

“Blimey,” he gasped. “Rose?”

“I…Scorpius, what…Hullo.”

“Hullo? Sod hullo,” he said, moving toward her.

She took a step back, glancing between him and the stone. Following her gaze, he noticed the large emerald in clutched in her hand and his gray eyes narrowed. She held it tighter, turning to shield it protectively and taking another step back.

“I have to take this back to the Ministry,” she said fast, hoping he’d just nod his head in agreement and send her on her way.

“So do I,” Scorpius said, his tone acerbic. “Alas that you seem to have beaten me to it.”

 “I’m just doing my job,” she whispered.

“And I’m trying to do mine. Do you know how long we’ve been tracking down that…whatever it is? Ages. Six muggles have disappeared from this forest because of that damn stone. One of them was eight years old. We think it predates Voldemort and we have to destroy it.”

“Destroy it? Without knowing what it is or - ”

“Who cares what it is! It’s dangerous, or were you not listening to the bit about the six muggles? Maybe you don’t care?”

Rose pursed her lips, staring at the stone in her hand. It didn’t _feel_ dangerous, but then she’d never had her Uncle Harry’s sixth sense about dark objects. Still, the department housed many dangerous items. Housed and catalogued and studied them. “I have to take it back,” she said, but her voice wobbled and a tiny tremor ran through her as she thought of the eight year old whose last moments were probably spent before this tree.

“No, you don’t. Give it to me, Rose,” Scorpius ordered, and she heard the start of his temper.

“I can’t,” she begged, gripping her wand and wondering why she didn’t just apparate. “I have to bring it back. It’s part of my testing.”

“And if I said it was part of mine as well?”

“Is it?” she asked, her mind already working scenarios.

“No,” he said bluntly. “But it’s important.”

“I know it is. That’s why - ”

“Al told me about what happened with James.”

The insecurity she’d felt only moments before hardened into something akin to rage and she glared at him with more venom that she’d ever directed at him before. “And?”

“And the Rose I know would never ignore her family.”

“You’re a git,” she seethed, hating that he knew what she’d done and hating that Al did as well.

“I’m not the one who sat in a pub and pretended my cousins didn’t exist,” he said archly.

“You’d have done the exact same if you had to for your job. Look at you now, standing here trying to guilt me into giving you something you know I need. The Scorpius _I_ know would never have thrown what happened in my face without giving me a chance to explain.”

“I’m not trying to guilt you into anything or throwing anything in your face! I’m _expecting_ you to behave like _my_ Rose and do the right thing,” he said, his voice so cold that she shivered.

“You’d have done the same,” she said again, and her voice was strong now, and sure. “If it meant protecting your cover or another auror’s? Or catching a dark wizard? Sometimes we have to make hard choices in the jobs we’ve chosen. My best friend knew that and understood it.”

“I’d never turn my back on you,” he argued fiercely. “Not for anything.”

“Don’t. Not after the things you just said to me.”

“Rose, please - ”

“No!” she snapped. “I’ve been away from everyone I care about for over a year; I haven’t even been allowed to write. My whole family, aside from my parents, Al, and Uncle Harry, think I’m off gallivanting around on some silly world tour. And now four of my cousins think I’m…I don’t even know what they must think of me. But you told me to do this anyway. Al did, too. You said it was worth it – worth leaving you even. You don’t get to hold the ramifications of that decision against me now.”

“I know,” Scorpius said quietly, visibly deflating. He ran his hands through his hair roughly. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect to see you, obviously. The last year has been…I’ve missed you. And I’ve been angry. So many times I’ve wished I’d never told you to go.”

“Scorpius - ”

“No. Take it. Take it and go. At least it will be gone.”

“But - ”

“I mean it, Rose. Just go.” He turned his back to her, leaning his forehead against the tree behind him.

With his eyes closed, she was free to look at him – _really look at him –_ for the first time. He looked so different, older and more haunted than he’d been at Hogwarts. He was, if anything, paler, his eyes too dark and his hair much too long, the ends touching the nape of his neck. And even still he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

As she took him in, a strange sort of anger bubbled up inside of her instead of the sadness she’d expected. The assignment had said a ministry official was looking for the object, but they must have known - _Moon_ must have known - that it would be Scorpius. They’d sent her here knowing what it would do to her. It was the second time they had used people she loved against her, and she wasn’t having it. All at once, it was clear what she had to do.

She walked across the clearing, sliding her hand up Scorpius’s arm to his shoulder and giving a gentle squeeze. Slowly, he turned to face her, and his expressionless face only strengthened her resolve. Lifting onto her tiptoes, she gently pressed her lips to his. Almost immediately, before he could even return the kiss, she disengaged and reached for his hand. Instead of taking it in hers, she deposited the stone and stepped away, never once looking away from him.

“Happy Christmas, Scorpius.”

Scorpius had just opened his mouth to speak when she disapparated, appearing instantly in Moon’s office. He looked up at her, one eyebrow raised.

“Miss Weasley?” He looked mildly surprised, but also impressed. It had taken her months of study in the evening to work out how the department bypassed the anti-apparition wards at Hogwarts and even longer to work her way around his.

“I don’t have it, if that’s what you want to know. You can take this bloody assignment and shove it up your arse. I’m done.”

“Rose - ”

“I mean it, Moon! I don’t want to be a part of this. People’s emotions aren’t a puzzle. I’m not a toy for the department to wind up. The fact that you would use my family against me and…”

She trailed off, her brow furrowing as what he’d said sank in.

“Did you just call me Rose?”

He smiled at her. “You passed.”

“I…what?”

“You passed.”

“But how?” she demanded, collapsing into the chair in front of Moon’s desk, her knees suddenly seeming to be made of jelly. “I failed in my objective. The stone – and I’m assuming you knew exactly what the _object_ was the whole time you great git - is now in the hands of the sodding ministry official.” These last words came out bitter, and she couldn’t help sending a resentful glare at Moon.

“The universe isn’t as simple as that, as I’d hoped you would realize in your time here. You passed.”

“So it was all a game then,” she accused, and she was unsure if her heart was pounding in relief or anxiety.

“Yes and no. Every member of this department was faced with your first challenge. It’s easier, of course, once you’ve been accepted and your family can be made aware of your employment. But it’s important to be able to gather and process great amounts of detail in times of emotional stress. This is not an easy job, Rose, and sometimes it means ignoring or even offending people we love.

“Tonight’s task was testing to see if you look at things in black and white or if you see the gray areas so important to our work here. You knew that by giving Mr. Malfoy the stone it would be taken care of and no longer pose a danger. You took control of the situation. You thought independently when the facts of the assignment proved themselves to be a challenge to your morality. That was your true objective. If we wanted witches and wizards who will do exactly as they are told, we’d let anyone in.”

“But the stone - ”

“The stone will be returned to the Auror department and promptly handed over to us by your Uncle Harry.”

“You’re a right prat, Moon,” she grumbled. If she were half as clever as everyone was always telling her, she’d have figured out from the beginning that the other department would have to be the aurors and that the stone would end up in her department in the end.

He smiled at her - a real smile this time. “I know it. And I’m sorry that it had to be this way. You’re the first new recruit we’ve taken on in eleven years, and none of the last three before you made it to the end. It’s lonely enough work we do here without becoming attached to witches and wizards who maybe won’t remember our names in a few months’ time.”

“It’s all done then,” she said slowly. “I’m an Unspeakable.”

“You are an Unspeakable,” he agreed. “If you want to be. You’ll need to sign on officially, but you’ve done it, Rose.”

He pulled a piece of parchment out of a folder and slid it across to her. She read through the document which would formally employ her. Still in shock, she reached for Moon’s quill and signed her name in vivid green ink.

“What now?” she asked. Her heart was hammering as the magnitude of what she’d just done hit her.

“Now you get to go home.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

When Rose left the Department of Mysteries on Boxing Day as a fully-fledged Unspeakable, she apparated immediately to a small flat in Hammersmith. Rolling her eyes at the lack of security, she pulled out her wand, muttered _alohomora_ , and walked in. She dropped her bag onto the table, wincing as she heard her books tumble about, and started a pot of tea.

She had just added a thin slice of lemon to her cup when the door clicked open and James Potter entered, sweaty, pink cheeked, and still wearing his Quidditch robes.

“’Lo, James,” she said pleasantly, grinning as he gave a very undignified yelp, dropping his Mach IV Firebolt and scowling at the sight of her.

“You disappear for over a year and think you can just pop round my flat and help yourself to tea and my last lemon?”

“Yes,” she answered, taking a delicate sip and walking to sit on the sofa. “It’s delicious, by the way.”

“Well you can take it to go.” He crossed his arms across the wasp on his chest and he looked so much like her Aunt Ginny that she snorted. “Yeah, like I said, bugger off.”

A silent moment passed and Rose carefully set her mug down and leaned back into the cushions. “I’m an Unspeakable,” she said finally, watching for his reaction.

“Bollocks,” James said at once with a gratifyingly stunned look.

She smiled serenely at him as he staggered to the sofa and sank down next to her.  “You stink.”

“Can’t be arsed to care at the moment,” he said, still bewildered.

Just as she was about to speak, the door opened and Fred stomped in, dusting snow off of his magenta robes and shaking the moisture off of his dreadlocks.

“An impervious charm is a miraculous thing,” Rose called from the sofa, and Fred, like James, scowled at her.

“What do you want,” Fred demanded accusingly.

“Oi. She’s a ruddy Unspeakable, Fred. An Unspeakable!”

Rose gave him a dirty look, but James just smirked.

“An unspeakable git, you mean,” Fred huffed.

“An actual, for real Unspeakable,” James corrected.

Fred paused and then rolled his eyes. “Puh-lease. Not an excuse.”

“I’m sorry,” Rose laughed as Fred came to sit on her other side. “I really am. But Unspeakable business is unspeakable. I had no idea you lot would be there. I was just told to show up, say nothing, and observe.”

“Merlin, Rose,” James said, still a bit awed.

“I know,” she agreed calmly.

“She’s going to be even more insufferable now,” Fred said with a persecuted sigh.

“You wound me,” Rose replied, hands to her heart and a mockingly contrite expression on her face. “And after I came here to grovel before seeing anyone else.”

“Even Al?” James asked, eyes alight.

“Even Al.”

“Brilliant!”

“Don’t be a prat,” Rose admonished. “I’ve felt horrible about this for months. I came here because I couldn’t stand not being able to tell you that I’m sorry for one second longer. Because I am. Really sorry.”

“You’re forgiven,” Fred said easily.

“I don’t know, Fred,” James said slowly. “When’s the next time we’re going to have Rose on the hook?”

“Too true,” Fred agreed. “And here we are, two blokes who don’t know a household spell between us.”

“ _I’m_ terrible at household spells!” Rose, like her mum, had never been particularly fussed about learning practical magic. She always assumed that one day, should she ever need it, she’d pop over to Gran Molly’s and get a few pointers. That day, thankfully, had yet to arrive.

“You’re brilliant at everything,” James countered, unconcerned.

“And you’re rubbish at accepting an apology. I’m not cleaning your flat.” Rose stood and fixed them both with a stern look, but her blue eyes were twinkling. “Don’t ruin this touching moment by being gits.”

“A very touching moment,” Fred chortled.

“And anyway,” Rose continued. “I’m off to see Ted and Victoire.”

“Don’t bother. They’re off in France somewhere. Just bung ‘em an owl. Ted and Vicky are reasonable.”

“Unlike you two?”

“Exactly. You going to see Al?”

“I’m popping home first.”

“You can floo if you like.”

“Brilliant,” Rose said, leaning to give them each a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you later, James? And I want match tickets. Proper ones, in a fancy box.”

“Will do,” James called as she stepped into bright green flames and vanished.

When she arrived home, she couldn’t help but grin. There were holly and evergreen branches strung with fairy lights as far as she could see. The Christmas tree was as big as ever, a small collection of wrapped parcels resting underneath, waiting for the traditional Boxing day celebration that her family and Al’s always shared. It was disappointing to have missed the traditional Weasley celebration, but she didn’t think she could handle her entire family’s questions all at once anyway.

Calling out for Hugo, she got no answer. She dropped her messenger bag with a thunk and slipped around the corner into her dad’s study.

“Hermione?” her dad called over his shoulder.

“Nope,” she said, surprised by the tears that rushed into her eyes.

Her dad whirled around, a spectacular grin breaking out over his face as he leapt to his feet and bounded across the room to swing her in a circle. “Rosie! You didn’t tell us you’d be home.”

Laughing and feeling all of six years old again, she buried her face in his jumper. “I didn’t know until yesterday. But here I am.”

“And…you’re….you made it, then?”

“I made it,” she breathed, and her dad pulled her tighter to him.

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered fiercely. “I dunno how I managed to have such a brilliant kid, but your old dad loves you a lot.”

“I love you, too,” she said, stepping back and wiping her eyes. “Where are mum and Hugo?”

“Hugo’s off with Lily somewhere. I didn’t ask because I don’t think I’d want to know,” he confided. “Mum’s with Aunt Ginny doing Merlin knows what. Harry’s clan will be over for dinner tonight, of course. And don’t worry. Gin’s doing the cooking.”

“Perfect,” Rose said, with a happy sigh. “It’s so good to be home.”

“Harry just owled that Al’s not heading back to school until Monday, so he’ll be here for dinner.”

“Saves me a trip to Scotland.” Rose was relieved. Now that she was home and away from the last eighteen months she found herself feeling satisfyingly exhausted.

“Scorpius will be here, too,” her dad said innocently.

“Dad,” she accused. “What – ”

“I invited him. Well, your Uncle Harry made me invite him,” he admitted, the tips of his ears turning red. “He’s had a rough go of it, Rose.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean his training hasn’t been easy. People don’t trust the Malfoys, even now that Lucius is dead. Can’t say I blame them too much. Draco always was a little - ”

“Focus, dad.”

“Right, sorry. People were hard on him. He got the toughest assignments, the worst partners, you name it. Blimey, I thought Dennis Creevey was going to fail him out of spite at one point, and you know Dennis is a decent bloke. Harry stepped in where he could, but I think he needed to know the boy was serious.”

“And was he?” she asked, looking out the window at the snowy back garden and trying to ignore the resurfacing guilt over how she’d behaved the previous day.

“I thought he was a bit mental at first, if I’m honest. Haven’t met someone so single-minded since your mother. Good luck with that, by the way.”

Rose blushed and her dad heaved a sigh.

“Not even going to deny it this time?”

“No,” she said softy, not able to look at him.

“Don’t tell your mum I said this or I’ll never hear the end of it, but I like him, Rose. He’s smart and determined and ambitious - how he ever ended up in Gryffindor I’ll never know - and he didn’t so much as glance at a single witch the entire time you were gone.”

Rose smiled. “You forgot devilishly handsome.”

Her dad snorted. “Sure, if pale and pointy is your thing. I’m not overly _thrilled_ you’re going to be a ruddy Malfoy, mind, but I expect I’ll get over it.”

“Who says I’m going to be a Malfoy?”

Her dad just rolled his eyes. “Please, Rose. I may not have your mum’s or your brain, but I’m not exactly a troll.”

“I missed you, dad.”

“I missed you, too,” he said. “Your mum and Hugo gang up on me, you know.”

“I know,” she said with a watery laugh.

“And as soon as I get you back you’ll be slipping off again.”

“Dad.”

“You’re going to need a flat.”

“Albus and I talked about going in together at the end of Hogwarts. His program’s done and he’ll probably be working out of London.”

“Mum’s already made a packet of listings for you,” he said.

“Of course she has,” Rose groaned.

They were interrupted by a crash in the kitchen and a loud, “Oi!”

“Al!” Rose called, jumping to her feet and running down the hall. Al met her halfway, grinning widely as he grabbed hold of her.

“I don’t know why I’m so pleased to see you when you went to see my wanker of a brother before me, your very favorite cousin.”

“You know why I had to go there first,” she said, soaking him in. His robes were deep navy instead of black, but in every respect he was the same Al she remembered; his hair was as messy as ever and his eyes just as bright. “Oh, Al,” she said, grabbing him into a hug.

“Come on. Tell me everything that won’t get me killed to know,” he said, leading her up to her room.

“Everyone will be here in a few hours,” her dad called down the hall. “So talk fast.”

She and Al laughed, stomping up the stairs and leaping onto her bed as they had when they were children. “It was amazing. And so hard. I missed you every day. I wanted to tell you so much, but they wouldn’t even let me owl. In fact, and don’t tell James this, I’m really glad it wasn’t you at the pub that night. I’d never have been able to do that to you.”

Al puffed up his chest and Rose guffawed, grabbing a pillow and hitting him upside the head with it.

“It was bloody awful without you,” he said, more seriously. “My program is amazing and time flew so fast, but Scorpius was a miserable little berk. We had a massive row about seven months after you’d left. Dad had to break it up.”

Rose grimaced. “Al - ”

He waved his hands. “It’s fine. We didn’t speak for two weeks and then he went and sent me a singing candy-gram. Came right in the middle of a lecture.”

“Of course he did,” she said dryly. “And I’m sure you mailed him a hex and all was right with the world.”

“Basically,” Al admitted with a sly grin. “He got so busy that I barely saw him anyway. Until last night, I hadn’t seen him in almost a month.”

“You saw him last night?” Her words came out in a tumble and Al gave her a knowing look.

“Yes I did. And no, I’m not telling you what we talked about. All I’ll say is that he was a bit of a wreck. Merlin, I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he turns up and you’re here.”

“I can’t believe my parents invited him.”

“Believe it. I think my dad’s a little in love with him; I’m almost jealous. And mum has been beside herself worried about him. She’s always going on about what a sad, tortured little soul he has.”

Rose choked on a laugh. “Aunt Ginny?”

“I couldn’t believe it either. She gets worried about him being in his flat alone. I keep trying to tell her she needs to be more worried about the rest of us when he ventures out, but she just whacks me on the head with the Prophet and sends me to my room.”

“Speaking of rooms,” she said, “Are you still interested in sharing a flat.”

Al’s whole face instantly turned pink. “Erm, no, actually. I was…that is to say - ”

“Albus Severus Potter,” she breathed. “Have you finally convinced some poor unsuspecting witch to go out with you?”

“Not exactly,” he hedged.

“Don’t tell me Scorpius was right and it’s a wizard. He’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

“No,” Al said, not quite looking at her. “That is to say, it’s not a bloke. But she’s not a witch.”

“Not a witch?” Rose blanched. “You mean - ”

“She’s a muggle.”

Rose just stared at him, head tilting to the side as what he’d said sank in. “You’re having me on.”

“I’m really not,” he said, uncharacteristically serious.

“Does she know? About you, I mean.”

“I told her last week. Happy Christmas to her, eh?”

“Blimey, Al, I don’t know what to say. Are you happy?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “I really am, Rose. Her name’s Margaret. She’s met Scorpius and mum and Lily, but not the rest of the family. I wanted to wait until after the holidays and kind of ease her into things.”

“How’d you meet?”

“She works at the pub near my flatshare in Scotland. She’s at muggle university studying photography. ”

“I’m…glad, Al. No, really,” she assured as he raised an eyebrow.  She was surprised to find that she’d even had to consider how she felt about this at all. “And if you need anything, I’m here.”

“Thanks. It’s been a strange time, and Scorpius has been flat out useless. I told him he was being a bitter, resentful little bleeder and he jumped me. That was the row, by the way. I’m not proud of it, but it was a stressful time and you weren’t here to even us out.”

“I’m not going anywhere again. At least, not for that long.”

“Was it amazing?” Al asked, rolling onto his side to face her.

“It was everything I wanted it to be,” she said. “And then so much more than that.”

“Was the veil real?” Al asked, shooting a glance at the door as though someone might be listening.

“Yes,” she replied. “Real and incredible. All of it was. Looking back, eighteen months is such a small price to pay for the things I get to learn and explore.”

“Don’t mention that bit to Scorpius,” Al said, elbowing her in the side.

“I wont,” Rose assured him. “I can’t believe I’m home. I can’t believe I made it.”

“I can,” Al said, and she wanted to hug him again.

“Now that I’ve told you everything I can without having to obliviate you, I want to hear all about Margaret.”

They talked for hours. Al told her about Margaret and how he’d spilled a pitcher of beer all over the bar and she’d reamed him. How, without quite thinking it through, he’d kissed her and been slugged in the jaw for it. How he’d spent two solid weeks trying to apologize before she’d leaned across the bar and kissed _him_.

She told him about her little room and about Moon. He told her about the potion he hoped would work as a curse deflector. She talked about missing Hugo and he told her about Lily lighting James’s favorite robes on fire. Al was right in the middle of a story about his mum jinxing his dad when the commotion spiked downstairs and they realized the rest of the Potters and Rose’s mum and Hugo must have arrived.

“Come on,” Al said. “I can’t wait to see the look on everyone’s face when you tell them where you’ve been.”

Rose laughed, traipsing down the stairs after him, still caught up in a fit of giggles. When she reached the bottom step, she froze. It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room. Her heart jumped into her throat and she all of a sudden forgot how to speak. All around her stood Weasleys and Potters staring openly, but all she could see was him. Standing next to the tree, a collection of wrapped parcels in his arms, stood Scorpius.

 


	12. Chapter 12

“Rose,” Scorpius said so quietly that if the room hadn’t already been silent she wouldn’t have heard him.  Then the packages were tumbling from his arms as he strode across the room, yanked her to him, and kissed her with a need that she felt down to her toes. She threw her arms around his neck, pressing as close to him as she could get. They clutched at each other, desperate hands clinging to anything they could grab. The tips of his too-long hair tickled her face, but she was beyond feeling anything but his hands and his mouth and his warm, solid presence. His arms snuck around her waist and he lifted her off her feet, dragging his lips down her throat as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

“This is a fascinating development,” James said dryly, interrupting just as Scorpius had clenched her tighter still.

 All at once she was aware of the rest of her family standing scattered around them. Her face flamed, and Scorpius, who also seemed to have recalled where they were, set her gently back on her feet.

 “James,” Aunt Ginny groaned. “I swear you’re worse than Ron ever was.”

“I was just saying that - ”

“Sod off, Potter,” Scorpius said, not unkindly, and never taking his eyes of Rose. Without daring to look about the room lest she see her dad’s expression, Rose took Scorpius’s hand and led him up the stairs.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind her and she’d set her locking charms, her back was against the door and Scorpius was leaning over her. His hand traced a slow path down her cheek, and his thumb stopped under her chin and tilted her face to his. Bending down he pressed his lips to hers. Here was the moment she’d waited eighteen months for - the freedom to kiss him properly and with no regrets or bitterness or lingering sadness lurking underneath. His kisses were soft, coaxing, and she relaxed against him, running her hands down his chest and sliding them beneath his cloak. His hands were on her waist when he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers.

“Merlin I missed you, Rose.”

“You just saw me yesterday.”

“Don’t remind me,” he grumbled, stepping away and pulling her to sit next to him on her bed. “I was a pillock and you know it. Should have seen the look on your Uncle’s face when I came back with that bloody stone. Pleased as punch, but not for me.”

Roe was immediately indignant. “Uncle Harry - ”

“Had no idea it would be me that was sent to fetch the blasted thing,” Scorpius reassured her. “One of the other auror’s little jokes.”

“But Uncle Harry knew - ”

“He must have been told it was your final test. Or guessed – his sixth sense is creepily accurate. I know a trainee was supposed to go and fetch the ruddy mystery object and I know he had to turn whatever it was over to your department anyway.”

“Moon said he would turn it over,” she said. “My mentor.” It was strange to have to explain things to him when he’d spent what felt like a lifetime at her side.

“Made me feel really excellent about myself when it turned out it was going back to your lot anyway.”

“Don’t,” she objected, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m glad you said what you did. If you hadn’t I’d have failed.”

“But you passed? It’s official?” She nodded and he smiled. “I’m happy for you. Thrilled even. Just don’t ever vanish for eighteen months again.”

“I won’t,” she promised, linking their hands.

“That reminds me,” he said suddenly, pulling out his wand and waving away the security charms. “ _Accio_.”

Seconds later the door swung open and, a small, neatly wrapped box zoomed into her room. Scorpius caught it and shut the door with another wave of his wand.

“Happy Christmas, Rose,” he said quietly, placing the box into her hands.

She stared at it, smiling, before standing to find her bag. Opening it, she too reached for her wand. “ _Accio_ ,” she said, and out zoomed a much less neatly wrapped package, which she handed to Scorpius as he pulled her back to his side.

They sat on the bed, each staring at their gift. “You first,” he said finally, shaking his head.

Chuckling, she unwrapped the package. Inside was a broad, flat velvet box. With trembling fingers, she opened it and saw nestled within a small, silver pocket watch. A delicate filigree pattern was engraved on its cover, tiny twining roses which seemed to sway delicately in a non-existent breeze. It was the loveliest thing she’d ever owned and she looked up at Scorpius with tears shimmering in her eyes.

“Open it,” he said gruffly, reaching over and placing his hand over hers to show her how.

When the cover popped open, Rose gave a little gasp. It was like her Gran Molly’s clock in miniature, but this watch only had three hands: one for her, one for Al, and one for Scorpius.

“I had them made earlier this month,” he said. “Took ages to find someone who even remembered a clock like your Gran’s. I’ve got one, and Al has one waiting for him wherever his box fell. This way, no matter where we go or what we do, we’ll always know that the other is safe.”

“But the department - ”

“Isn’t as mysterious as it thinks. Al told me that your arm of the Weasley clock still worked while you were away. Every day it would indicate you were working and every night that you were at home. About eight months in you started traveling. Al and I used to sit around the pub and make bets about where you were and what you were doing. We were a pretty pathetic pair, come to think of it.”

She pulled him into a tight hug. “You should open your gift now.”

He paused to press his lips softly to hers before staring down at the parcel in his lap. “So lovingly wrapped,” he teased and she bumped his shoulder with a scowl.

“Just open it.”

He slid his long fingers in the seam of the paper, pulling it neatly apart and turning over the small leather-bound book in his hand. Frowning, he opened it, and she couldn’t help but smile as his eyes widened and he slammed it shut. “Rose - ”

“I read my paperwork. I read it over and over. I am an Unspeakable. I cannot speak of what I do. But nowhere does it say I cannot write down how I feel and what the things I do mean to me. And nowhere does it say I can’t share those feelings with you.”

She watched as he sat, gazing in wonder at the book in his hands. “Merlin. Will you ever stop outdoing me?”

“You’ve always been in every part of my life, Scorpius. I couldn’t imagine keeping the last eighteen months hidden away from you. You gave me the journal, and it was perfect. I didn’t write the _really_ secret stuff down, but I wrote about what mattered to me. I knew that, when I finally finished, and if I got to keep my memory, I wanted you to have this.”

“What about Al?”

“Al? Are you mental? He’d have a pint and the whole pub would know. No. This is just for us.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Scorpius said solemnly, staring at his hands.

“Yes,” she assured emphatically. “You do.”

She’d just leaned in for another kiss when the door opened and Al walked in.

“Oi!” Scorpius called with a glare at his best friend.

“Security charms,” Rose groaned.

“Uncle Ron is downstairs looking mutinous. Believe me when I say that walking in on you was practically a favor.” Al paused and took in the discarded wrapping paper. “You opened presents without me? _Accio_!” Two parcels zoomed into the room and Al chucked one at each of them.

“Cheers, mate,” Scorpius said, directing Al’s package, now zooming into the room, toward him.

Al’s watch was gold rather than silver, with an impressively-maned lion etched onto the cover.  He opened it and stared at its face for a long moment before squeezing between Rose and Scorpius and pulling them both to him. “You’re both idiots. Don’t ever leave me again.”

Rose and Scorpius opened their gifts from Al next. Both packages contained compact mirrors, Scorpius’s in an onyx cover and Rose’s in an opalescent one. She looked at Al questioningly.

“My dad told me a few months ago about this two-way mirror that Sirius had given him in his fifth year. He used it to call for help when he and Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione were trapped…” Al trailed off and shot a glance at Scorpius.

“Trapped at the Manor. I’m a big boy, Al. I can handle hearing about it.”

“Anyway, he used this mirror to communicate with someone. So I talked to your mum, Rose, and she helped me work it out.” He pulled a jade encased mirror from his own pocket. “They’re connected. Three-way.”

“No three-ways, thanks. You’re her cousin and I don’t exactly fancy speccy gits, at that,” Scorpius said with an exaggerated shudder.

Al blushed, but laughed. Rose just gave an aggrieved sigh. “Honestly. Will you two ever grow up?”

“Probably not,” her boys said at once.

“But anyway,” Al continued. “Inappropriate and childish jokes aside, I want us to always be together.”

Tears were again filling her eyes and Rose swiped at them.

“Your other presents are downstairs, but I didn’t want James, Lily, or Hugo to see the mirrors.”

A knock at the door had them all looking up, and Aunt Ginny stepped in, smiling at them.

“Generally when there is a family gathering,” she said, a look of mock reproach on her face, “people don’t run off and hide themselves away. They gather. As a _family_.”

“Coming, mum,” Al said with a grin.

Rose reached out and took Scorpius’s hand, beckoned Al to follow, and together, they went to join the other Potters and Weasleys.

Things went surprisingly well, once the three of them had made their way back downstairs. Hugo teased Rose and James tried his best to get a rise out of Scorpius, but both of them were too happy to care about the ribbing. Scorpius didn’t stop touching Rose once, and she’d laughingly opened a beautiful, midnight-blue tweed cloak from Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny one handed.

Al had also given both she and Scorpius a strange silver phial with a series of tiny jewels running down one side. “It’s for storing different potions,” Al said. “That model will hold up to seventy-two. I’ve already filled it with every antidote I could think of.”

“Gee, thanks mum,” Scorpius laughed.

Al pulled a face at him. “I also put some useful stuff in there – polyjuice and the like – but there’s still about twenty empty compartments.”

“It’s brilliant, mate,” Scorpius said. “Thanks.”

Rose agreed, handing Al his present. She couldn’t give him secrets like she had done for Scorpius, and she hadn’t exactly been able to go shopping, so she was pleased when Al stared in surprise at the little wooden box in his hand. “Tap it with your wand and say your name,” she told him, and he did.

Everyone gasped as the box grew to be the size of a small cabinet. Tentatively, Al slid open a drawer and gasped. “Rose – ”

“Seeing as half the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is standing in this room I wouldn’t announce what’s in there if I was you,” she said, leaning close to his ear on the pretense of examining the cabinet with him.

“Potions ingredients!” Al announced loudly. “Loads. And some of these are, erm, really rare.”

Uncle Harry snorted. “Just like your mother.”

“Pardon?” Rose and her mum asked together.

“She’s been nicking stuff from the potions stores for years,” Uncle Harry told Rose, and her dad laughed. Rose was delighted to see her mum flush pink.

“Stealing!” Hugo crowed.

“Aunt Hermione!” James exclaimed, sounding distinctly impressed.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Rose’s dad said, leaning back in his armchair and pulling his wife into his lap. “I’m pretty sure half her plans involved _something_ illegal.”

“In fairness,” Rose’s mum said primly, “ _everything_ was illegal when I came up with most of those ideas.”

Aunt Ginny launched into a story about her seventh year at Hogwarts with Hermione, and Rose used the distraction to lean over to Al.

“Better put that away,” Rose told him quietly. “Tell it you’re a brilliant boy and it’ll shrink back down.”

Scorpius snorted and Al rolled his eyes.

“I hate you, sometimes,” he said, grumbling the words and carefully stowing the box in the pocket of his robes.

The rest of the evening was one of the most pleasant Rose remembered having, and she was amazed by how seamlessly Scorpius seemed to slot in to her family. He chatted about work with her Uncle and dad, got trounced by Hugo in chess (mostly because he ignored Lily’s increasingly exasperated suggestions), and even argued Quidditch with Aunt Ginny.

After the Potters left, Rose, Albus, and Scorpius sat around the worn kitchen table drinking hot chocolate. Scorpius had one hand resting on Rose’s knee and every once in a while she’d catch him watching her with a look of serene contentment that she was sure was mirrored in her own expression.

 “Are you going to stay here?” Al asked, propping his feet on a spare chair.

“I don’t know,” Rose sighed. “I didn’t think I’d have to plan that far ahead. I have two weeks before I have to officially report back to work, and dad told me mum had gotten together some listings.”

“You could stay with me,” Scorpius suggested. When Rose whipped round to face him he put both hands up in anticipatory surrender. “I have a spare bedroom! Blimey, it was just a suggestion.”

“I can’t just move in with my boyfriend,” she sputtered.

“You’re damn right you can’t,” her dad called from down the hall.

“Ronald!” her mother scolded.

Scorpius grinned. “Is that what I am?”

“Don’t be thick,” she muttered. Al was watching them keenly, and it took a lot of effort not to just bury her face in her hands. “Course you are.”

“About bloody time,” Al said. “We can double date.”

Scorpius and Rose both wrinkled their noses. “Date?” Rose asked.

Al looked at her like she’d sprouted bubotuber’s all over her face. “Yes, Rose. Date. That thing two people do when they’re going out?”

She turned to Scorpius, who shrugged. “Don’t look at me. Never tried it before in my life.”

“You two are hopeless. Also insufferable. But mostly hopeless.”

Scorpius tugged Rose to his side and she leaned into him. “Sorry mate,” he said. “I think we’re past that.”

“Honestly, I don’t know why I bother sometimes,” Al huffed. “You’re having dinner with Margaret and me and we’re telling her it’s a double date because that’s something she’ll understand and you’ll suck it up and go with it because I’m your best friend. Got it?”

“Merlin you sound like your mum,” Rose’s dad said, coming into the kitchen for a ginger newt. “And that’s not a compliment.”

“I’ll tell her you said that,” Al said angelically.

“Go ahead,” her dad laughed, biting off the ginger newt’s head. He turned his attention on Rose and Scorpius. “As for you two. I want to see at least ten inches of space between the pair of you at all times in my house.”

“Dad!” Rose exclaimed, and Scorpius stared at his hands as the back of his neck reddened.

“Some things will never change,” her mum said, wandering into the kitchen. “Really, Ron. Rose is an adult.”

“Still my house,” he mumbled and Rose caught her mum’s eye and smiled.

“Come along, dearheart. Let’s let the kids catch up.”

Shooting one last reproachful look over his shoulder, her dad followed her mum from the kitchen.

“You can’t stay here,” Scorpius said, peering around her to look down the hall. “Your dad makes me twitchy.”

“What’s that mean?” Al asked around a mouthful of ginger newt.

“He’s an intimidating bloke,” Scorpius said simply.

“Uncle Ron?” Al asked. He and Rose looked at each other before bursting into laughter.

Scorpius just nodded seriously. “You’ve not seen him at work. It should be illegal to know as many hexes as he and your dad. And this voice he gets?” Scorpius gave a little shudder.

Al and Rose were crying now, bent over the table and choking on their giggles. “Uncle…Ron…scary,” Al gasped.

“Oh sod off, the pair of you.

When Rose and Al finally stopped laughing, Al looked at the clock. “Bugger. I’ve got to get home. I promised Lily I’d hang around for a while tonight.”

Rose got up and pulled him into a hug. “See you tomorrow?”

Al nodded, chucking Scorpius on the shoulder before throwing a handful of floo powder into the fireplace and heading home to Grimmauld Place.

When he was gone, she and Scorpius sat, staring at each other. The strange tension that had seemed to hover all evening settled heavily over them now that they were on their own. His fingers drummed on her knee and everything inside of her seemed to be vibrating. She thought of the kiss they’d shared when he’d first seen her and the kiss that Al had interrupted and knew what she wanted.

“Scorpius,” she whispered, eyes averted. “Take me back to your flat.”

 


	13. Chapter 13

When Rose awoke the next morning, the sky was a dull gray and snow whirled through the air. Rolling over and seeing Scorpius’s sleeping face, though, warmed her more than any amount of sunshine could have done. She took advantage of the moment and stared unabashed. So much of what she saw was just as she remembered - the tiny wrinkle between his eyebrows that always appeared when he slept and the green pajama bottoms covered in fluttering snitches. But then there was so much new - his bare chest and his hair falling over his eyes and the way his hand seemed to reach out for her.

Carefully, she slipped from beneath his quilts, wincing when her feet hit the cool floor. With a wave of her wand, she warmed the wood and with a swish conjured a pair of toasty slippers. She knew she should get dressed - it was the dead of winter after all - but she found strange comfort in rolling up the sleeves of the too-big pajama top. She tapped her wand to her hair and it wound into a long, red plait.

Scorpius’s flat was spacious and full of light. Every available wall in the large living room was covered in bookcases. A large green leather sofa sat atop a muted rug with armchairs grouped around small tables. Scattered about were pictures in antique silver frames, mostly of her and Albus, some of his parents, and a few of Hogwarts and a memorable Quidditch game or two. Down the hall was another bedroom, clearly being used as a small office, and she smiled to see that the desk that sat in the middle of the room had a chair on each side.

Resisting the urge to curl up before the fireplace with a book, Rose made her way to the kitchen. It was warm and well appointed, if a bit on the small side. She couldn’t perform a household spell to save her life, but her dad had insisted that she learn how to make breakfast the muggle way. (“Trust me, if you’re ever stuck in a forest for months on end you’re going to be glad you can fry an egg.”)

As she fumbled around Scorpius’s little kitchen, she paused to dash off a quick note to let her parents know that she would be home for tea that afternoon. Scorpius’s eagle owl, Archimedes, held out a foot regally, giving a dignified hoot before soaring out the window. While the kettle boiled and she monitored her scrambling eggs, she thought about the previous night with a smile. The snogging had been excellent, of course, but it was the talking and laughing and closeness that had filled the eighteen-month old hole in her heart.

Rose was just pouring boiling water into a little brown teapot when she heard a crash from the bedroom. Seconds later, Scorpius came stumbling down the hall, his eyes darting about the room and his cheeks flushed red.

“Scorpius?” she questioned, and he sagged against the doorframe with relief at the sound of her voice. “Breakfast,” she said, waving her wand and toasting the bread on the table.

He didn’t respond, just walked across the room and pulled her to him. When he spoke, his voice was rough. “I thought I’d imagined last night.”

“Don’t you mean dreamed it?” she asked and gave him a teasing smile.

“All my dreams are of you,” he said with a solemnity that took her aback before she saw the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Git.” Rose said, pressing her cheek against his bare chest.

“Well, _almost_ all of them.”

She stretched up to brush his lips with hers. He caught at her shoulders before she could move away, pulling her bottom lip between his and deepening the kiss. With a gentle push to his still-bare chest, she separated them. “The eggs will get cold.”

“Sod the eggs,” he murmured against her throat, his lips trailing down across a stretch of exposed shoulder.

“Scorpius,” she objected with a laugh. “I need to eat.”

“Fine,” he said, sitting down and tucking into his eggs. “But eat fast.”

Pouring herself a cup of tea, she slid into the seat across from him and propped her feet on his leg. “I can’t stay here all day. I need to sort out where I’m going to live.”

“And I still say you’re being ridiculous,” he argued. “This isn’t like when normal people start seeing each other, Rose. I’ve spent a year and a half without you. I want to wake up and see your face and fall asleep to your teeth grinding and - ”

“I do not grind my teeth,” she said, appalled.

“Suit yourself,” he said, taking a bite of toast. “But you need a flat. I have a flat. It seems rather obvious.”

In her mind, she thought of all the arguments against living with him and quickly realized most of them were rubbish. She took a sip of tea and regarded him before nodding. “You know, you’re right.”

He froze, fork halfway to his mouth, and stared.

“You are! I’ve spent the past year and a half living alone. So have you. And maybe we _have_ just started dating or seeing each other or whatever normal people call it, but who cares about that rubbish.”

“You’re serious,” he said slowly. “You really mean it?”

“Yes, I think so,” she replied, finishing her toast. “It’s the logical thing to do.”

Scorpius snorted. “Logical. Right. And it has nothing to do with the fact that you liked falling asleep in my bed and waking up and making me breakfast?”

Rose blushed. “Well, if you’re going to tease me about it.”

“No,” said Scorpius, standing and walking around the table to sit at her side. “I’m not going to tease you.”

“It is a lovely flat,” she said, looking round. “And Mayfair is my favorite neighborhood.”

“I know,” he said simply, and understanding turned her smile almost shy.

Rose’s reply was interrupted by the return of Archimedes, who gave a low hoot and dipped his beak into her tea. She removed the scroll from his leg before he stole a piece of toast and returned to his perch. Unrolling the parchment, she sniggered. Scorpius snatched it from her and read. His pale skin went white.

“Bollocks,” he breathed. “Please tell me you didn’t owl your dad that you spent the night at my flat?”

“As we’re about to tell him that I’m _moving into_ your flat, I don’t see the problem,” she said brightly. “Come on. Let’s get ready and get this over with.

**********

“And that was it? No row? No lectures? Nothing?”

“Nothing,” Rose told Al, taking a sip of her ginger beer. “Even Mr. Malfoy seemed pleased for us.”

“Why wouldn’t he be pleased?” Scorpius said, downing the last of his firewhiskey. “His only child and the future of the Malfoy name has somehow managed to snare himself a Weasley.”

“When is Margaret stopping by?”

“Whenever the damn muggle bus decides to make it here, I imagine. I don’t know how she puts up with it.”

Rose was about to reply when a grin spread across Al’s face bigger than she’d ever seen before. Turning around in her seat she saw a pretty girl with short blonde hair, brown eyes, and a distinctly nervous look on her face.

“Margaret!” Al called, waving emphatically.

“Be forewarned,” Scorpius told Rose under his breath. “He’s almost insufferably cheerful when she’s around.”

“It was only insufferable because you were being a bitter little toerag,” Al said between his teeth, the smile never leaving his face.

When Margaret approached the table, Rose looked up at her as Al made the necessary introductions, leaning over to press his lips to her forehead.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Margaret said, twiddling her fingers as she slid into the booth next to Al.

“Don’t be nervous,” Al said, cheerfully. “She’s not intimidating in the least, I promise.”

Margaret scowled and elbowed him in the side

“I think she’s going to fit in just fine,” Scorpius announced.

“I’m sorry,” Margaret huffed, dropping her bag onto the floor and unwrapping her scarf from around her neck. “This entire thing is a bit mad and bugger if I know why I haven’t scarpered.”

“An excellent question,” Scorpius said, leaning back and putting an arm around Rose’s shoulders.

Al gave a beleaguered sigh. “And now the three of you gang up on me.”

“We’re just trying to make Maragret more comfortable, Albus. Come on.”

“Albus?” Maragret asked, perking up. Al’s put his bottle down with a clunk and buried his face in his arms.

Rose and Scorpius looked at each other in surprise before breaking out identical grins.

“Even better,” Scorpius confided. “Albus _Severus_ Potter.”

Margaret blinked, looking down at the messy black hair hiding her boyfriend’s face. “Albus Severus? No wonder you never said.”

“Can’t be worse than Scorpius Hyperion,” Al said giving Scorpius a wounded look from beneath his fringe. Rose rolled her eyes skyward.

“Go away, boys. I want to talk to Margaret.”

“But - ”

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” she said sweetly, ignoring the suspicious look Al cast over his shoulder as Scorpius dragged him toward the bar.

“So how are you doing with all of this?” Rose asked once they were out of sight.

Margaret’s eyes widened. “Doing with all - ”

“Margaret,” Rose said with a conspiratorial smile. “You make Al happy, and that makes me happy. But come on. The bumbling bloke who somehow, and search me if I can figure it out, managed to badger you into dating him just announces he’s a wizard? That magic is real? You’re putting on an awfully brave face.”

“I don’t know if it’s quite managed to sink in yet.”

“Probably because Al’s dancing around the subject,” Rose said sagely. “You have to let him know it doesn’t scare you - that who he is doesn’t scare you. It doesn’t, does it?”

“No!” Margaret said at once.

Rose regarded her for a long moment before finally smiling. “I believe you.”

“Oh, thank God,” Margaret breathed. Rose looked inquisitively at her and Margaret went on. “Al never shuts up about you - before I figured out you were his cousin, I was about to chuck him entirely because of it - and if you hadn’t liked me?”

Rose was spared responding by Al’s abrupt arrival.

“She hasn’t managed to scare you off, has she?” Al asked, green eyes darting back and forth between them.

“I thought you said she wasn’t intimidating,” Scorpius said, sitting and pulling Rose’s hand to his lips.

“Who knows what tricks she might have learnt from the creepy gits she works with.”

“Hey!” Rose interjected. “They’re neither creepy nor gits. They’re _discrete_.”

“What creepy gits do you work with?” Margaret asked, and Al gave her a quick sideways glance before giving Rose and Scorpius an imploring look.

Rose ignored him. “I work for the Department of Mysteries.”

“The Department of…Mysteries?”

“Sort of like your MI6,” Scorpius said helpfully. “Only _actually_ top secret.”

“So you’re what? A spy or something?”

“Not exactly.”

“A data analyst?”

“Not quite,” Rose said, beginning to enjoy herself.

“Now you’ve done it, Maragret,” Scorpius warned. “She’s gone into know-it-all mode.”

“Princess Rose of the Smugs,” Al agreed, wrinkling his nose.

“I’m simply not at liberty to discuss what it is or isn’t that I do,” she said loftily, examining the fingernails of her free hand.

“Got it,” Margaret said. “Secret government operative. Sounds way cooler than Al’s gig.”

Al gave her an indignant look. “I am a potions _master_.”

“And he has the piece of paper to prove it!” Scorpius said, puffing out his chest.

“Why did I think this was a good idea?” Al moaned as Margaret burst into giggles. “You two were meant to talk me up!”

“It’s almost like he hasn’t known me his whole life,” Rose said, glancing up at Scorpius with a smirk.

Once she caught his eye, however, she couldn’t look away. Gone were the frown lines and the haunted look; he was looking down at her with the most openly joyful expression she’d ever seen on his face.  Without stopping to think, she slid a hand up to the back of his neck, pulling his mouth to hers.

“Oi! Do you have to do that in front of me?”

“I think it’s sweet,” Margaret defended.

“Nothing about the pair of them is sweet,” Al said darkly, and Rose and Scorpius were forced apart by their grins.


	14. Chapter 14

Rose’s few, precious weeks away from the Ministry flew by. Even with Al and Scorpius back at work – Scorpius still had another year and a half of training to go and Al had started his apprenticeship – her days were full. For starters, she made her way through the entire Weasley roster, popping in to explain why she’d been gone so long and what job she’d taken. All of her aunts and uncles were suitably impressed. Uncle George offered her five hundred galleons to sneak out some of the liquid holding the brains her dad had told him about; Uncle Percy gave a very long speech about the honor of the Ministry; Uncle Bill didn’t bother trying to hide his jealousy and kept trying to quiz her, along with Aunt Fleur, about the things she’d learned; and Aunt Ginny simply gave her a long look before rounding on her Uncle Harry, who threw his hands up and regarded Rose with an expression of betrayal that clearly begged for help.   
  
Gran Molly gave her an earful about danger and risk and then gathered Rose into her arms with a reproving sob. Rose could only look helplessly at Granddad Weasley, who simply shrugged as Gran Molly pulled back to ask if Rose was really moving in with “that Malfoy boy.”  
  
Moving in with that Malfoy boy had been both exactly and nothing like she’d expected. Most of the actual moving in happened while Scorpius was at work, and Rose had a shocking number of people volunteer their help. Her mum came over to help figure out a way to integrate her belongings into Scorpius’s. (Rose noticed Mr. Malfoy slipping out of every one of his photos when her mum arrived). Her dad popped by and managed to get through five whole minutes of unpacking before making a crack about the prominence of green in the decor. Hugo and Lily both came over via floo powder, though they spent more time digging through Scorpius’s things and arguing with the miniature he kept of his grandmother than helping. Al would sometimes pop over after work, gleefully mussing Scorpius’s sock drawer (“He had four locking charms on it in the dorm room. Ridiculous.”) or hiding his favorite tie (“I think this is my favorite part of you two living together – he’d never let me in on my own, before.”).  
  
She’d been nervous for the first few days, fearing that it would be too hard to adjust to sharing a flat with anybody, let alone Scorpius. There had been a few rows, to be sure, and, knowing them, there would be more to come. Scorpius had practically turned purple when he’d come home to discover that she’d re-arranged all of his books when incorporating hers. (“They’re not your bookshelves anymore, you great arse, they’re our bookshelves!”). Rose had needed to count to about a thousand when she’d caught him toweling off a soaked Archimedes with her favorite Cannons t-shirt (“That was my dad’s!”). And, because she was her mother’s daughter, there had been a very heated discussion about the house-elf who came to tidy-up every day. (“For Merlin’s sake, I pay her, Rose. Neither of us have the time nor the inclination to learn cleaning spells. Get over it.”).   
      
Then there were the rows they weren’t having, the things she’d never thought about until she’d sat in their living room and felt the eyes of his grandmother on her and saw traces of the Manor in the oddest places.   
  
Still, random creepiness aside, so long as she didn’t think about things too much, it was almost like being at Hogwarts again, only now they didn’t have to go up two separate staircases when it was time for bed.  
  
Scorpius came home at odd hours, usually exhausted and always with a pile of parchment and books. Rose secretly enjoyed helping him study, and, much to his amusement, spent her last free day making him flashcards for his Concealment and Disguise training.   
  
“I don’t know how you ever convinced the sorting hat to put you in Gryffindor,” he said, bending down and brushing his lips against hers after he magicked the soot off of his black robes. He took the cards from her and flipped through them with a crooked smile.  
  
“There’s curry takeaway in the kitchen if you’re hungry,” she said, tucking her feet under her.  
  
“Couldn’t eat anything if I tried,” he said, falling down on the sofa and putting his head on her lap. Automatically her hands reached for him, fingers burying in his silky hair and massaging his scalp. “Too exhausted to chew.”  
  
“I can’t believe you still have a year and a half to go,” she said sympathetically.   
  
“Neither can I,” he said darkly. “That curse breaking job sounds awfully appealing all of a sudden.”  
  
“Don’t be an idiot,” she said, tugging gently on a lock of his hair. “You’d be bored out of your mind.”  
  
“And it’s not like I need the galleons,” he agreed distracted, studying the detailed analysis of the disillusionment charm she’d written out.  
  
“Scorpius,” Rose said warningly. This was the row they hadn’t had yet, and also the one she was hoping to avoid.  
  
“Rose, I’m a Malfoy. Malfoys have gold.  We’ll always have gold, no matter how much my father is willing to pay to clear his conscience. Get used to it.”  
  
“I don’t have a problem with how much money your family has,” she said, a little indignantly.  
  
He gave a tired sigh and sat up, turning to face her. “I know you don’t, so why don’t you just say what you do have a problem with.”  
  
“I just…” Looking at his face made it almost too hard to say the words. She really didn’t want to have this argument because she really didn’t want to say things that would hurt him.  
  
“You just don’t like where the gold comes from.” His voice was matter-of-fact. He sat waiting for her response, and his calm made her more nervous.  
  
“No,” she said slowly. “I don’t.”  
  
“I know that, historically, my family has been terrible, Rose. Believe me, I know.”  
  
“It just feels strange, sometimes,” she admitted. “To think that…well…”  
  
“To think that the Malfoy gold that paid for my broomstick and the robes on my back and everything I own came from the support of the Dark Arts?”  
  
“I’m not saying that you – ”  
  
“I know you’re not,” he said impatiently. “I am not my family’s history, no matter what the rest of our world assumes. I’ll continue doing everything I can to prove that being a Malfoy doesn’t mean being like my grandfather. But I can’t change the past.”  
  
“I’m not asking you to,” she said, reaching for his hand. “But it makes me uncomfortable and I suppose it’s better if you know that now, no matter how much I’ve been trying to avoid the subject.”  
  
“It never bothered you before,” he pointed out.   
  
“Well, I was never living in a flat that was - ”  
  
“Paid for by evil?”  
  
“You said it, not me,” she replied archly.  
  
“Would it make you feel better if I told you that I paid for this flat?”  
  
She rolled her eyes. “With your family’s money.”  
  
“With my mother’s family’s money. The Greengrasses weren’t exactly saints, but they weren’t Death Eaters either, Rose. My mother’s parents set up my Gringotts trust.”  
  
“Really?” she asked in a small voice, hating that his answer made a difference.  
  
“Really. I hate the Malfoy gold and the Manor and all the rubbish that comes with it more than you do,” he promised. “And someday we’re going to have to figure out what to do with it all, but today is not that day.”  
  
“Merlin’s beard,” she whispered.   
  
“What?” he asked, confused. “I didn’t – ”  
  
She silenced him with a kiss, sliding into his lap. Scorpius didn’t bother asking questions, just kissed her soundly, hands sliding under her jumper. His cool touch made her shiver, and he pulled her closer, long fingers ghosting over the skin of her back.  
  
Knowing that he had to study, and knowing that if she didn’t stop them he never would, she slid her lips across the line of his jaw, peppered tiny kisses along the expanse of his neck, and stopped and rested her head on his shoulder.  
  
“Not that I’m complaining,” he sighed, sliding his hands out from under her jumper and wrapping his arms around her waist. “But what was that for?”   
  
“For the ‘we.’” she answered.  
  
He pulled back, puzzled. “Pardon?”  
  
“We are going to have to figure out what to do with the Malfoy money,” she said, feeling like she’d just eaten a whole bag of fizzing whizbees.  
  
Scorpius furrowed his brow. “Well, of course we are. I mean, wizarding law dictates that the manor must pass to the eldest Malfoy child, and as I’m the only Malfoy child – ”  
  
Rose put a finger to his lips. “We.”  
  
She saw the moment comprehension dawned, but was surprised when he scoffed. “Well, of course it’ll be we. You didn’t think I was going to let you shirk off all the horrible parts of being married to me, did you?”  
  
She raised her eyebrows. “So we’re getting married?”  
  
“Don’t be thick,” he said, giving her an incredulous look. “What? You thought you’d just move into my flat – ”  
  
“Our flat,” she corrected.  
  
“Fine. Did you think you’d just move into our flat and…that’d be it?”  
  
“Of course not,” she said hotly.   
  
“Obviously we’re getting married, Rose. Surely you knew that.”  
  
“Yes, well,” she said primly. “It isn’t like you’ve asked.”  
  
Scorpius laughed, a deep rich laugh that warmed her to her toes. “Of course I haven’t asked. You wouldn’t want me to ask right now. You’ve only just got back. We need to ease our parents into the idea that they’re going to be family, Rose. And I need to know the aurors aren’t going to chuck me out.”  
  
“You already said you have heaps of gold, so, practically, what would it matter if they did? Besides, the aurors aren’t chucking you out.”  
  
“So you want me to ask then?” he asked, gray eyes glinting.  
  
“At some point, obviously, I would like that very much. And before you get offended, I wasn’t so pleased because you were referring to getting married.”  
  
“Then what?” he asked, chuckling.   
  
“I’m pleased because you were referring to a future where you don’t try to shelter me from your family. That I get to help you work it out,” she said, squeezing his hand.   
  
“Seeing as you’re loads cleverer than I am,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “it would seem silly of me not to ask for your help.”  
  
“Don’t try to change the subject, Scorpius,” she said with a nudge. “You never wanted Al and I to visit. You never really wanted to talk about your family. You shielded us from your grandmother wherever you could, which we always told you was ridiculous.”   
“Wasn’t. Wish I could shield myself from her, sometimes,” he muttered.  
  
“None of us would be here if it weren’t for your grandmother,” Rose said gently. “What I mean to say is that the fact that you trust me to help you deal with the least pleasant parts of your life means something to me.”  
  
“Well,” Scorpius said, the back of his neck coloring as he stared down. “The fact that you want to help means everything to me.”  
  
“Scorpius Malfoy,” she said, clapping her hands to her cheeks. “Are you turning sentimental on me?”  
  
With a grin he flipped them over on the sofa. “Never,” he said with a messy kiss. “And let’s not joke our way out of what was a very….touching….moment.”  
  
“You have to study,” Rose laughed, slapping playfully at his chest as his hands started to wander.  
  
“Sod studying. I need to snog my future wife.”      
  



End file.
